Chancellor Moore: Ace Attorney
by Amaxing
Summary: The city of Boston used to be normal. Then, like a meteor falling into your swimming pool while you're floating on a plastic raft, Chancellor Moore arrived fresh from law school, claiming to be a certified attorney, and the madness began. An OC fiction.
1. Turnabout Turnpike

Disclaimer: Contrary to popular belief, I actually _do_ own everything in this story… except the city of Boston, Massachusetts however. Ace Attorney is the inspiration, format, and overall influence behind the story, but the characters are MINE! ALL MINE! PLACES TOO! Except Boston, of course. I think I may have mentioned that.

Turnabout Turnpike

Every morning at 7:30 am, Chancellor Moore would wake from his bed, drag himself across his apartment to the bathroom, look in the mirror, and instantly remember everything he had forgotten to prepare for the night before. This phenomenon, the doctor who analyzed him said, was 'unknown to psychoanalytic science and merited further research insofar as to find what cerebral alteration produced such a reflex.'

"You don't have a clue, and you want to use me as a guinea pig for research?" Chancellor rephrased.

The psychologist winced at the bluntness of the statement and admitted, "well, yes, that's about right."

Chancellor bluntly, yet politely, declined. He already knew why looking into the mirror caused him to remember things. It was the shock of seeing, day after day, that he had a woman's face. And a darn beautiful one at that.

He'd had it as long as he could remember; which meant that he'd had a woman's face for at least ten years of his life. After waking up from a coma screaming '**OBJECTION!**' at the top of his lungs (scaring the nurse attending to him half to death) the doctor came in and explained that, upon Chancellor's arrival to the hospital one year previously, the damage to his face had been extremely severe, and the only chance that Chance had had of living was to undergo emergency facial reconstruction surgery. Unfortunately, the only photo the surgeon had had to use for the surgery was a picture of a wallet model that, miraculously, had been the only thing that had survived inside Chancellor's wallet. The doctor said he was very sorry.

As to why having a girl's face reminded him of anything, Chancellor was clueless. He chalked it up to the idea that his face, being the chief woman in his life, somehow subconsciously nagged him every time it saw him. He didn't like being nagged, which was why he only looked into a mirror when he absolutely had to. Consequently, no one had ever called him vain.

Nevertheless, the nagging did save his skin quite often, and Chancellor knew that he'd be lost without his face to keep him in line. Today, for instance, she reminded him of something that, quite literally, knocked him off his feet. _Your first trial is in half an hour, Chancy!_ He didn't bother wondering why she always called him Chancy; he had more important things to worry about.

He gasped, picked himself up off the floor, and ran frantically around his apartment. He grabbed papers, files, and breakfast, and hurriedly stuffed them into his briefcase. He stopped, thought for a moment, and then went into the kitchen, grabbed a spoon, and quickly shoveled the oatmeal out of his briefcase and into his mouth. He ran back to the mirror, quickly brushed his teeth, ran a hand through his shoulder-length snow white hair to give it a smexy, unkempt look, and slapped on a yellow dress shirt with torn off sleeves and black suit pants, topping the whole ensemble with a blue sweater jacket, which he left unzipped. He surveyed himself for a moment with his hazel eyes. _You look terrible_ said his face. "I look damn good for only five minutes worth of prep time," he said aloud. He ran back to the kitchen, reached into the fridge, and pulled out his daily chocolate-covered strawberry. He wanted to take his usual ten minutes to savor it, but there was no time. He frowned and swallowed it down whole.

He rushed out the door. As he ran out into his apartment complex's hallway, he caught a glimpse of himself in the doorknob, and gasped again. He stuck his hand in the closing door and swore loudly when it smashed his fingers, but did not close. He rushed back inside the apartment and stopped to catch his breath for the first time. Slowly, he lifted a large tire chain hanging on his bedpost and draped it over his neck. There was no way in hell he was leaving without that.

-District Courthouse, Defendant's Lobby 2, 4/18, 8:03 am.

Chancellor burst through the double doors of the defendant's lobby, and was greeted by a stern look from a man with neatly combed, grey hair and wrinkles that framed his face in a state of perpetual worry. Despite these features, the rest of his body suggested he was much younger then his forty-nine years; young enough to be Chancellor's brother, even.

"Mr. Thenue!" Chancellor managed through short, gasping breaths, "I'm sorry I'm late, I overslept, I poured oatmeal in my briefcase… I didn't even take time to enjoy my strawberry!" Chancellor gestured dramatically. The last part was, of course, the most important detail, and the one that he thought would inspire the most pity.

"You shouldn't apologize to me" the man said solemnly "you should apologize to your client."

"Oh, alright then…" Chancellor began "I'll just…"

"_Of course you should apologize to me!_" Thenue snapped, causing the young attorney to jump back in fright, "You've put the entire reputation of Thenue and Noble law offices on the line with your lackadaisical approach to life and your rash irresponsibility! Why if this wasn't your first trial, you'd be out on the street like this!" He snapped his fingers dramatically.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry sir, I…"

"I'm not finished!" Thenue continued, "I had to go into that courtroom and request a _half hour_ extension just to cover up for your folly! Me! Morage Thenue! In the twenty-five years I've worked in law, I've _never_ had to ask for an extension for _anyone_, especially when the trial hasn't even started!"

"And the office's track record is all the worse because of it" Chancellor muttered under his breath.

"_Don't think that just because I'm late-middle-aged I can't hear your snide remarks!_" Morage yelled.

"Look, I'm sorry, ok?" Chancellor shouted defensively. "Yelling at me won't solve anything, it might even make me do worse!"

Morage Thenue stiffened up, outraged by this insubordinate retaliation. "_IF YOU LOSE TODAY, YOU'RE FIRED!"_ he bellowed so that those outside the courthouse, nay, outside the boundaries of the city, could here. He stormed out of the lobby, slamming the doors behind him. Quite hard, actually, seeing as they each weighed roughly two hundred pounds.

Chancellor placed his head in his hand and sighed, shaking visibly. _I really need to watch what I say under pressure_ he thought _it's going to get me in trouble one of these days… like today… and yesterday… and the day before that._

"It's nice to see my lawyers have such a healthy relationship" came a voice from the other side of the room.

The young defense attorney whipped around quickly, nearly having a heart attack at the familiar sounding voice. "You…" he stuttered, "You saw all of that?"

The speaker, an old, yet healthy looking man with brown, parted hair that happened to be Chancellor's client, laughed. "Don't get your intestines tied in a knot" he soothed "I believe in you, Chance."

Chancellor laughed nervously, blushing slightly. "You know… you're supposed to be the one worrying, and _I'm_ supposed to be the one that comforts _you_, Dad."

Chancellor's client, Thompson Moore, was an ace physician at St. Maladie General Hospital who specialized in nephrology. Although he was unmarried and had never considered having a family, he found himself, for some reason or another, adopting Chance when it was found that Chancellor's past had been all but erased. "Why should I be worried?" he laughed, patting his son on the back, "after all, I'm innocent!"

"Yeah…" Chancellor agreed, "I guess you're right!" _If only it _looked_ that way…_ He smiled, trying to convince his father that everything would be ok. But even he didn't believe that entirely.

-District Courthouse, Courtroom 12, 8:30 am.

"All rise!" came the Bailiff's cry. The defense attorney, prosecutor, defendant, witnesses, and people who didn't really have to be there but had nothing better to do with their lives, quickly stood. The judge, a young, blonde man in his late twenties, entered the courtroom, fiddling with his robes with one hand and impersonating Queen Elizabeth's wave with the other. The courtroom chuckled slightly. The bailiff cringed. "The honorable, if not somewhat unconventional, Judge Scotty presiding."

Judge Scotty, despite his previous attempt at humor, ran strictly by the book. "You may be seated," he said in a stern voice. The courtroom was seated (ooh boy, isn't _that_ redundant). "Very well then, Case Number 4276-C, Moore vs. the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, will now come to order." He motioned to the young lady standing at the prosecutor's bench. "The prosecution will now make its opening statement."

Prosecutor Krasivaya (pronounced Kra-see-vai-ya) smirked slightly. Born and raised in Volgograd, Russia, she had become a prosecutor at age eighteen, and had spent the last seven years of her life extending her perfect win record in Boston. With long, flowing black hair, skin as pale as wintry cream, and a figure that had placed her on many men's 'Most Wanted' lists, she had won a good majority of her cases entirely by 'distraction'. The fact that she was unrelenting, spontaneous, and had incredible foresight didn't help either.

"Guilty." She spoke aloud. "When the dust settles, when the muddy waters stirred by the attorney over there clear, when every piece of evidence and every fragment of testimony has been picked apart like a badly stuffed carnival toy in the mouth of a dog … that will be the verdict that Mr. Moore receives. It is the only conclusion that can be drawn."

Judge Scotty nodded politely. "Thank you Ms. Krasivaya" he said. "Ms. Moore, can you top that?"

Chancellor's tightened his fist and took a deep breath. He _hated_ it when people mistook him for a woman. _Oh c'mon! Scotty doesn't know I'm a man? You have paperwork, you're honor!_

"Get on with it already" ordered Krasivaya, playing with her hair and clearly annoyed. "This is a trial, not a _Girl Scout_ meeting, it's not going to be all hugs and cookies."

Something inside Chancellor snapped. "First of all" he began, his deep and clearly masculine voice causing Scotty and Krasivaya to jump, "I happen to _like_ Girl Scout cookies, and I think our legal system would be one heck of a lot _better_ if it was built on _them_ instead of the law. Secondly, while I'm afraid I didn't spend all of last night creating a…_poetic_ witness statement…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE! **(This is Russian for 'Objection'. It is pronounced 'Voz-ra-zhen-yeh')

"Your honor!" demanded Krasivaya "The defense should refrain from attacks on the prosecution!"

"It's only an attack on you if what he said is actually _true_, Ms. Krasivaya" Judge Scotty noted, eying Krasivaya with amusement.

The prosecutor shifted uncomfortably, the muttered, "defense will continue its opening statement."

Chancellor continued; his confidence boosted slightly. "Now, I may not have as _eloquent_ a speech as the pretty prosecutor over there, but there is one thing I _do_ have." He struck his 'objection' pose, with his arm fully outstretched, his pointer and middle finger both pointing at Krasivaya, and his thumb curled under those fingers slightly. He took a deep breath. "The truth." He glared at Krasivaya for a moment with a feigned look of pure hatred. Then he smiled and winked at her. Krasivaya opened her mouth to object, but Chancellor continued to speak. "The defense pleads 'Not Guilty' your honor, and we seek to prove this plea in its totality."

The judge nodded curtly. "Very well then. At this time, we will call the first witness."

Chancellor had won the toss backstage, so he was the one who got to call the first witness.

"The defense calls Mr. Thompson Moore to the stand" he said.

Thompson Moore took the stand. He drummed his fingers impatiently, as if waiting to be proven innocent.

"Mr. Moore" prompted Chancellor. "Would you kindly recount what happened that night? Perhaps we can end this trial early, and move on to more interesting things…" he winked at Krasivaya again. She looked at him with disgust, but he didn't mind. He had only done it to screw with her (as in get a reaction from!) anyway.

"Alright then, Chance" nodded Thompson. "Here's my synopsis of that evening."

"I was driving home from the hospital down Uccisore Turnpike at around 2:15, 2:30. I saw a drunk man, who I've recently learned was named General Revadac, stumbling alongside the road, and figured I'd do a good deed. I picked him up, got his address out of him, and continued driving along the road. A few minutes later, however, he suddenly became very violent! He began scratching at me, trying to choke me even! I had no choice but to pull off to the side of the road. After grappling with him for a bit, I was finally able to eject him from my vehicle, and I left the scene in a hurry. That was the last I saw of him."

"Thank you, Mr. Moore" said Chancellor. He turned to Judge Scotty. "What more is there to say, your honor? The victim was alive when last my client saw him. Open and shut."

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"_Ms. Moore!_" exclaimed Krasivaya, purely to screw with Chancellor. "Are you _honestly_ expecting this court to find the defendant innocent based entirely on _his own testimony?_ Tell me again, how exactly can I find this jaded, naïve fantasy world you live in? It seems like a very pleasant place for holiday."

"It's quite simple really" explained Chancellor. "You follow the yellow brick road, then take a right at _GO_, but don't collect 200, then when you reach Neverland…"

"_Who answers that kind of question?_" blanched Krasivaya.

"Answer a stupid question with a stupid response, and the asker will realize she's not as smart as she thinks" quoted Chance. "That's in the Bible."

BANG! BANG! "ORDEEEEEER UUUUUUP!" yelled Scotty. "If we could get back to the trial please? You can save your bickering for later!"

Krasivaya glared at Moore for a minute. "… Very well, your honor" she muttered. She cleared her throat. "I have no questions for the witness at this time, your honor."

_Huh?_ Thought Chance. _That's either really good or…_

"At this time, the prosecution would like to call a witness" Krasivaya pointed at Thompson accusingly "_a witness who can prove that this man is nothing but a liar and a murderer!_"

_…or a one-way ticket on a southbound express train._

Judge Scotty sighed. "Always with the dramatics, you lawyers… fine. You may call your witness, Ms. Krasivaya."

"The prosecution calls the detective in charge of this case, Mr. Tracy Spade, to the stand."

Tracy Spade was a broad shouldered, slightly overweight man who always wore a Sherlock Holmes-style hat to 'enhance his perceptive abilities'. He had a pronounced chin, and the right side of his face (and only the right side) had a Five O'clock shadow. His voice was low and gravelly like a bulldog's bark, and often scared criminals and other unsuspecting people out of their wits.

"Your name and occupation, Mr. Spade, purely for formality's sake" Krasivaya instructed.

"Tracy Spade! Homicide Detective!" Spade barked. Chancellor jumped, scared out of his wits.

"Mr. Spade" Krasivaya continued, trying to keep herself from smiling, "please explain to the court the details of your investigation."

"YES MA'AM!" Tracy shouted, springing to a salute.

"The incident, from what the autopsy suggests, took place yesterday at around 3:00 in the morning. The victim, Mr. General Revadac, was found along the side of Uccisore Turnpike. He was badly bruised over his entire body, and he had been stabbed, through the back, with a surgeon's scalpel."

'**OBJECTION!**' came a perfect B-flat from the defense's bench.

"Must you sing, son?" asked Thompson, cradling his head in his hands, embarrassed.

Chancellor nodded. "When I object, I'm happy. When I'm happy, I sing. You know that."

"'Objection' usually has a _negative_ connotation," replied Thompson.

Scotty cleared his throat; drawing the two Moores' attentions back to the trial. "Mr. Moore?" the judge asked. "You were objecting?"

"Oh, yes your honor. I'd merely like to note that a scalpel does not _necessarily_ have to be held, used, or owned by a surgeon. I move that the word be stricken from the record."

"Duly noted" affirmed Judge Scotty, tapping his gavel lightly on the desk. "Mr. Spade, you will refrain from using such modifiers unless they are completely based in factual evidence, understood?"

Spade sprung to a salute again. "YES SIR!"

At the prosecution's bench, Krasivaya smiled slightly. _So you caught that, huh Mr. Moore? And I was even 'stretching' when that word came up too…_ She flicked her hair back and acted annoyed. "Pointless drivel" she commented. "Mr. Spade, continue with your briefing."

Spade nodded furiously and continued to speak. "Alright, so Mr. Revadac was found with a plain old, ordinary scalpel sticking out of his back. The scalpel in question was imprinted with the words 'Maladie General Hospital', so it was easily traced back to the defendant's workplace. The most decisive thing we found, however, is undeniable proof of this crime."

'**OBJECTION!**' in C-Sharp.

"That's purely an opinion your honor!" interjected Chancellor, almost giddy with the way the word 'objection' rolled off his tongue.

Spade, however, was not as giddy. "What?" he balked. "What do you mean? How is blood under the victim's fingernails _not_ decisive evidence?"

Cut to a 'murmur murmur' scene.

Bang! Bang! Bang! rang the gavel. "OOOOORDEEEEEEEER UUUUUUP!" yelled Scotty. "Mr. Spade, are you telling us that the defendant's blood…"

"Yes sir" nodded Spade. The blood sample taken from under Mr. Revadac's fingernails matched Thompson Moore's blood work." Spade grinned. "Now think about it! Mr. Moore attacks Mr. Revadac, and Mr. Revadac fights back! The victim gouges the defendant during the struggle, and that's where the blood comes from!"

"Decisive indeed!" mused Scotty.

Krasivaya laughed internally, smoothing her black dress with her perfectly manicured hands. _Too easy,_ she thought to herself.

"Does the defense have anything they'd like to offer?" asked the judge.

"In fact I do, your honor," remarked Chancellor, sweating slightly under pressure. "While the defense is willing to concede that is _unusual_ for such a thing to occur, in Mr. Moore's case, it is not so. You see, Mr. Moore is a kidney surgeon! It is quite possible that Mr. Moore operated on Mr. Revadac recently, and a small portion of the latter's blood made its way under the former's fingernails!" Chance slammed his fist on the table for effect. "_The prosecution has proven NOTHING!"_ He grinned, confident that he has just turned the whole case around.

Krasivaya stared blankly at Chancellor. "Mr. Moore…" she said flirtatiously "that was almost… cute." She batted her eyelids seductively.

Chancellor reddened, and scratched his ear absent-mindedly. "Oh, c'mon, it was nothing…"

"To be able to mix up such a vital detail in such an important situation," she flashed a phony, pitiful smile at him. "It's like a little boy mixing up the words to his favorite song. Tell me, did you _try_ to do that? I honestly can't see you being that… oh what's the word in English… stupid."

"Um…." Chancellor faltered. "Um?" He scratched his head, sincerely confused.

Judge Scotty shook his head, unbelieving. "I think Ms. Krasivaya is referring to the fact that the _defendant's_ blood was found under the _victim's_ fingernails, not the other way around."

Chancellor stared ahead blankly. "Oh…" he finally said, "really?" He flashed a wide smile and sweat dropped. The rest of the court just murmured, not believing the stupidity of the attorney.

Thompson, despite the fact that his own lawyer had just messed up grandly, laughed it off. "I knew taking you as my attorney would be a bit Chancy…" he said with a grin.

"Mr. Moore?" asked Scotty warily. "Are you sure you're up for this? That kind of error just isn't… acceptable."

"Give me another Chance your honor!" begged Chance. "It's just an endearing personality trait, that's all!"

Scotty eyed Chancellor carefully. "Very well… I suppose you may have another Chance, Mr. Moore. What are your thoughts on this evidence?"

"I think there's a very good explanation for it, your honor!" Chancellor declared; his chest puffed up with pride. The entire courtroom turned to look at him, waiting. "There was the… um… and the…"

"Don't fight it" whispered Krasivaya, running a hand up her arm and sighing gently. "Be a real woman… and accept your defeat." She turned her head to the side slowly, taking slow, shaky breaths.

_Ack! So distracting… I can hardly fight back!… … wait a minute… _

"THAT'S IT!" sang Chancellor, smashing the desk beneath him.

"I'm assuming that was a 'you're absolutely right, I'm going to give up now' 'that's it', correct?" asked Krasivaya.

"AS IF!" snapped Chancellor, catching Krasivaya off guard. "There's a fatal flaw in that explanation! It is made under the assumption that the victim was _fighting back_!" Chancellor pointed dramatically. "But the victim was drunk to the point of passing out that night! Even the autopsy report suggests such! _He could not fight back!"_ Chancellor pointed to Spade accusingly. "You say that my client was fighting the victim? _That is impossible!_ Mr. Revadac could not have fought back!"

Chancellor looked over at his opponent, and was shocked to see her remaining perfectly calm. Why, if he didn't know better, he'd have sworn she was… he didn't know better. She was laughing.

"Ms. Moore…" she laughed "that… wasn't half bad!" She smiled. "You've destroyed any hopes of getting a 'justified self defense' plea, you must feel proud of yourself." She flicked her hair back. "Mr. Spade" she ordered. "I think it's time we finished this… present the last piece of evidence, now!" She could hardly contain her pride.

Chancellor just stood there. _Oh yeah… I guess I _did_ just do that, huh…_ He smacked his head on the bench. _Damn it Krasivaya! Why do you have to be so distracting?_

Spade reached into his pocket and pulled out a videotape. "This is a security camera recording from the tollbooths at Uccisore Turnpike exits 1 and 12. The victim's body was found on the stretch of road between these two exits, and there are no other booths or turnoffs between the two. From what the tapes suggest, the only car that passed through the booth that night was that of Thompson Moore's… and the victim can clearly be seen inside Mr. Moore's car." The detective nodded to the bailiff, who brought out a VCR and television set. The tape showed the area of road in front of tollbooth one. "As you can see here, at around 2:45 am, Mr. Thompson Moore pulled up to the booth and grabbed his ticket." In the tape, a dirty, grimy, beat up, green Volkswagen Beetle pulled up to the booth. Thompson drove by the booth slowly, grabbing his ticket skillfully without stopping. General Revadac could be clearly seen in the back seat, pressed against the window in a drunken stupor. Detective Spade hit 'Fast Forward' on the VCR, and the tape shifted forwards. "Now as you can see here, the next time that vehicle appears on the tape is here" he pointed to the screen. "This is the area in front of the tollbooth at exit 12. I know it looks the same, but it's a different booth, you have my word." The courtroom watched the tape intently. Mr. Moore's shiny, beat up, green Volkswagen Beetle came to a stop at the booth. Thompson handed the man his ticket and drove off quickly. General Revadac was nowhere to be seen. The time stamp read 3:15 am. "As you can see from the tape" Spade concluded, "no other cars passed through that area that day. The only people who could have been between these two booths at the time of the murder were the victim and the defendant!"

"Thank you, Officer Spade" nodded Krasivaya. "You had quite a long paragraph to speak, is your voice scratchy at all?"

"Actually, it is" Spade replied "but lucky for me, it doesn't sound any different!"

_You call that being lucky?_ Thought Chance.

"Hey Moore!" called Scotty. "If I were you, I'd stop talking to myself and cross-examine the witness!"

"Gee, thanks your honor," remarked Chancellor sarcastically. "I'm a complete moron… so I didn't know what to do next."

"Well it's about time you admitted it" shot Krasivaya before Scotty could protest. Scotty smiled, and Chancellor laughed nervously, ruffling his hair. _Idiot. I set myself up for that one, didn't I? Oh yeah… and the whole… I shouldn't disrespect people… thing._

"I'm sorry your honor, I'll cross-examine now" apologized Chance. He turned towards the witness stand. "Mr. Spade… allow me to clarify, these tapes show only the area in front of the booth? As in where the cars drive by?"

"Yes," answered Spade. "Well… it also shows a little bit to the right and left, but there's nothing of importance there."

"True enough," admitted Chance. "So you have no footage of any areas _other_ than this, correct?"

"That's right."

"So… if someone were to _walk_ _around_ the booth, or not pass it at all, they wouldn't show up on the camera?"

"Well… no…" Spade admitted. "But here's the thing… the only way onto the turnpike is through there… in case you don't know, the turnpike is entirely elevated off the ground, and the entrances are extremely narrow."

"Oh…" mused Chancellor. _Drat!_ "Well, to save me from asking any more questions, what _can't_ be seen on the camera?"

"Not much actually" clarified Spade, eyes rolling up into his head as he thought the question over. "I guess… you can't see inside the booth itself, and you can't see…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Your honor!" interjected Krasivaya. "This entire line of questioning is yielding nothing but a momentous waste of time!" She shook her head dramatically, allowing her hair to whip back and forth. "I motion that it be dropped immediately on grounds of irrelevance!"

'**OBJECTION!**' in the form of an F-chord.

"Your honor, my purpose here is to make absolutely sure that Ms. Krasivaya's evidence is as _decisive_ as she claims. If there is any reason to assume a person could get around the camera, then there is room for doubt in this case!"

Scotty nodded in agreement. "Your objection is overruled, Ms. Krasivaya. You may continue, Mr. Moore."

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"_What do you mean my objection is overruled?_" Krasivaya whined. "I… I don't get overruled, your honor! I… no… what?" Her voice cracked, she gave an unbelieving sigh, and tears began to swell up in her eyes.

"Oh, c'mon!" objected Chance. "Don't even _think_ you're going to get me to take my question back by acting cute, _I'm not buying it!_"

Krasivaya looked at him, grinned, and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Fine. But I'm warning you…" she licked her lips "… things are going to get _dirty_ from here on out… _Mr_. Moore."

_Good gravy! There's nothing more dangerous than a woman who's beautiful… and knows it! _Chancellor smiled. "As you wish" he replied. He turned back to Detective Spade. "Mr. Spade, if you could complete your answer?"

Detective Spade looked frantically at Krasivaya. She nodded slightly, and he continued. "I was going to say that… you can't see inside the booth itself… or in the small space behind it, where the employees park their cars."

Chancellor's eyes widened. "So basically, what you're saying… is that if someone were to drive by that way, or walk by that way… the camera wouldn't catch it?"

Detective Spade was silent for a moment. Then he looked down, disappointed. "I… yes, that's about right."

Chancellor flashed a big, toothy smile, and gave a soft 'ha!' of triumph. "Your honor, I think that casts _more_ than enough doubt on the evidence."

"Absolutely right, Mr. Moore" Scotty agreed. "However, knowing Ms. Krasivaya like I do, I'm sure she has the necessary witnesses to back up her case."

Krasivaya nodded appreciatively. "You are correct, your honor. While I was, indeed, hoping that this evidence would be sufficient enough to close this case, I have also prepared for the two tollbooth-operators to testify. Do you have any other questions, Mr. Moore?"

Chancellor shook his head, allowing his white hair to shift about freely. "None at all, beautiful."

Krasivaya almost blushed, but managed to maintain her composure. "Very well then. The prosecution would like to call its next witness to the stand."

"Before we do that," Scotty interrupted, "my legs are getting a bit cramped from sitting in this chair, so I'd like to propose that the court take a twenty-minute recess. Any objections?" There were no objections. "All right then!" Scotty beamed. "This court is adjourned!" He banged his gavel, and the courtroom dismissed.

-District Courthouse, Defendant's Lobby 2 10:17 am.

"Doing good, Chance, doing good!" Thompson exclaimed, wrapping his son in a bear hug.

"Dad…" Chancellor blushed, embarrassed, "stop it… it's far from over." Chancellor paused, thinking. _I wish I had a chocolate strawberry right now…_ He glanced down at his chain, saw his reflection, and remembered what he had wanted to do next. "Hey Dad!" prodded Chancellor. "I was wondering…"

"Krasivaya?" asked Thompson, a knowing look in his eye. "I don't know son. I suppose she's only doing her job… she _could_ be a nice girl underneath…"

"I WASN'T ASKING ABOUT THAT!" Chancellor protested, blushing. "It's just… we didn't get to talk much before the trial started… I was wondering if there was anything you think might be important for me to know."

Thompson scratched his chin, thinking. "Well… there is _one_ thing…"

"Yes?" Chancellor's eyes widened, and he began to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet.

"It's just… everyone keeps saying there was only _one_ car on the turnpike that night…" Thompson frowned. "But I could have sworn I saw another one!"

"WHAAAAT?" Chancellor was knocked off his feet. "_That's the kind of thing you tell me _earlier_, Father!"_ He picked himself up. "Did you see what kind of car it was?"

Thompson smiled. "I do actually, it was a beaut of car, it was. A nice, shiny, solid green Corvette."

_Huh…_ thought Chancellor. _I didn't even think they _made_ green Corvettes…_

BANG! The door was kicked down, and a young man burst into the room. His bright red hair was more unkempt than Chance's, his suit had clearly been pieced together from thrift stores and pawn shops, and not even his _socks_ matched. Chancellor smiled. "Ricky!" He ran over to the young man, clapping him on the back.

"That's Ricardo Writchard, private eye, to _you_ Ma'am" Ricky joked, slapping Chance on the back as well. They had been friends ever since Chancellor had moved in with Thompson. "And boy, are you going to be glad I came." He handed Chancellor a file marked 'Kyoto'. "I think that _this_ will explain everything quite handily when the time comes."

Chance gave Ricky a puzzled look. He looked down at his chain, gasped, flipped through the file quickly, and smiled a broad smile. "YES!" he screamed, wrapping Ricky in a hug. "I _thought_ I'd heard that name before! You've done _great_ Ricky!"

"No big deal" blew off Ricky. "Anything else you need?"

"Actually…" Chance said, looking at his reflection. "Could you compile a list of green Corvettes in the area, and who owns them?"

Writchard frowned. "Do they even _make_ green Corvettes?"

Chancellor laughed. "That's exactly what I thought! But still, it's important."

Ricky sighed. "I suppose I could see what I can dig up…" His face lit up, as though just remembering something. "Oh! Here!" He pulled a box out from his pocket.

Chancellor licked his lips. "If that's what I think it is…"

Ricky nodded. He lifted the lid off the box slowly, revealing a ridiculously huge chocolate-covered strawberry, nestled with care amongst fine paper wrappings.

Chance was overcome. In his mind, a choir of angels began singing. He gasped of breath, reaching his shaking hands slowly into the box, and dropping the delectable delight into his mouth. "MMMMM…" he hummed. Ricky took a small bow and left. For the rest of the time, Chance just stood there, savoring every moment.

- District Courthouse, Courtroom 12, 10:37 am

BANG! "The courtroom will now place its order!" Judge Scotty bellowed. "I've stretched sufficiently, so we'll continue where we left off. The prosecution will call its next witness!"

The witness who took the stand next was a young boy, maybe seventeen or eighteen years of age. His hair was dyed a shocking shade of green, and it was done up in Liberty Spikes. He wore a black sleeveless shirt and ripped jeans, and wore a chain around his neck.

He looked at Chancellor. "Wow!" he exclaimed in a high-pitched voice while fiddling with his over-sized glasses. "Your chain is _totally_ hardcore man! I mean, seriously! It's like five times the size of mine! Seriously, where'd you get it?"

Chancellor was caught off guard by the question, but maintained his composure. "Well… I…" he paused, then laughed. "I actually don't remember where I got it. I've been told it's a tire chain for a monster truck, though."

"Seriously?" the teen blanched. "That's cool dude, seriously!"

"AHEM!" Krasivaya cleared he throat, and the squeaky-voiced teen jumped. "You will give your name and occupation to the court, and you will cease giving Mr. Moore the false impression that people care about his life."

"Don't mind her" Chancellor comforted. "She's just upset because I'm not drooling over her like some love-struck imbecile. You're perfectly in line."

The Russian prosecutor winced. "In your dreams maybe, Moore…" she grumbled.

The witness laughed. He ran his hand through his spikes. "My name is Liam Sirius, and I work the tollbooth at exit 12 of Uccisore Turnpike. And, seriously, you two look like you're about to tear each other's heads off… or suddenly run towards each other and…"

"It's the former, I assure you" Krasivaya interrupted.

"For once, I agree" nodded Chance.

Liam laughed. "Oh sure, you guys say that _now_ but, seriously, deep down I'm sure…"

'**OBJECTION!**' sung in A major.

"Mr. Sirius!" Chancellor insisted. "If you could start your testimony, please? I'd like to finish this thing before lunch!"

"You mean you'll stay as long as it take to get me proven innocent, right son?" asked Thompson, only slightly concerned.

Chancellor paused for a moment, as if lost in thought. "Nah" he dismissed "it's definitely the 'before lunch' thing."

Krasivaya chuckled slightly, and Liam began his testimony. "Well let's see…I was working my shift at tollbooth 12. It was seriously raining until about 2:30, and I remember thinking 'It's seriously nice that I've got this tollbooth roof over my head.' Anyway, it's around… 3:10? 3:15? When the first customer in _forever_ come by in this green Volkswagen Beetle. I look at his ticket, and it says he got on at exit 1, so I charge him the set fee and he drives off. Seriously, other than the defendant sitting right over there, no one else passed by."

"Thank you, Mr. Sirius" said Scotty, pondering the information carefully. "Mr. Moore? If you have questions, you may ask them now."

"Thank you, your honor." Chancellor tipped his head towards the judge. _I've got this one! I'll catch him in his lie and break him!_ "Mr. Sirius, you work at tollbooth 12, correct?"

"Yup" replied the witness.

"And you also claim that the defendant _gave you his ticket?_" He glared at Liam.

Liam looked confused. "Well, yeah! I mean, seriously!"

'**OBJECTION!**' sung as D minor arpeggio.

"_Are you serious, Sirius?_" Accused Chance, smiling inside at the pun he'd made. "If what you claim is true, then the facts of this case are the _exact opposite_ of what has been presented! As we all know, a driver hands in his ticket at the _end_ of a drive on the turnpike, yet tollbooth twelve was the _beginning _of Mr. Moore's trip!"

"_You wouldn't have seen him at all!!_" He stood there, arm outstretched.

Silence.

"Um… Mr. Moore?" ventured Krasivaya.

"Go on" Chance said shamelessly, basking in his own glory. "Go on and admit that my client is innocent, it's OK."

"AS IF!" Krasivaya snapped, catching Chance off guard. "I just figured you ought to know that you mixed things up… again." She dipped her head to hide a slowly forming smile. "And for its worth, it was somewhat cute… again."

"Oh!" Chancellor jolted out of his 'basking in glory' pose (an arm reaching up towards the heavens with the other planted firmly on his waist). He looked through the files in his briefcase. "Oh… you're right," he admitted. "I'm sorry… the oatmeal made the numbers run together, I thought that was a 'one'…"

"Oatmeal?" asked Thompson, his face lighting up with curiosity.

"I'll tell you later, Dad" Chance whispered. "Ok…" he addressed Liam. "I'm sorry about that… I hope I didn't scare you."

"You seriously almost gave me a heart attack, dude!" he screeched. "Why, if I didn't know better, I seriously would've suspected myself of being the real killer, seriously!" He wiped his glasses free of sweat.

"Again, I'm sorry… let's continue… Are you absolutely sure that Mr. Moore was the man you saw that night?"

"Absotivly, posilutely sure" nodded Liam.

"Why are you so sure?"

"He rolled down his window, so I got a seriously good look at his face."

"But didn't you say it was raining that night?" Chancellor tensed, ready to pounce.

"I _also_ said that it had stopped raining at around 2:30," Liam remarked. "I mean, seriously! Pay attention!"

"Ah, yes, you're right…" Chancellor grumbled. "And you're absolutely sure that the vehicle was the same as well?"

"Well, it had the same driver, so yeah."

"I asked about the _vehicle_, not the drive, witness." Chancellor glared.

"Oh, seriously? All right then… yeah, it was seriously the same vehicle as the one they showed be in the tape… I remember it seriously well, because I've kind of got a thing for nice, shiny cars."

Chancellor felt a tug at the back of his mind. "You said… that you like _shiny_ cars?"

"Yup! I mean seriously, there's nothing better than seeing a seriously clean, sparkly ride pull up to a window!"

'**OBJECTION!**' sung in triplets.

"Mr. Liam, you probably don't realize this…"

"_But you're testimony just now causes a very disturbing _contradiction!"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"There is no contradiction here!" Krasivaya insisted. "Whether or not there is anything better than a sparkling car pulling up next to you is entirely a matter of opinion!"

Chancellor looked down, disappointed. "Oh… I suppose you're right…"

Krasivaya smiled. "It's alright… it's actually quite amusing…"

'**OBJECTION!**' sung as a tri-tone.

"_Do you really think that little of me?_" balked Chance. "_Of course_ I'm not objecting to that!"

"Then what are you objecting to, Mr. Moore?" asked Scotty.

"Oh? Scotty doesn't know?" asked Chancellor. "I'll be happy to explain, your honor. You see, Mr. Sirius has just testified that the car that pulled up to his booth was clean and sparkling! However, if you recall the security tape from earlier, Mr. Moore's car was _dirty and grungy_ when he first entered the turnpike!"

"_A clear contradiction!_"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"The witness' statement is perfectly valid!" protested Krasivaya. "Whether or not a car is sparkly and clean or not is another matter of opinion! One man's 'dirty' may very well be another man's 'spotless'!"

'**OBJECTION!**' sung in quarter notes.

"But the security tape _also _suggests that Mr. Moore's car became cleaner! Opinion aside, dirt was removed from Mr. Moore's car during his drive on Uccisore turnpike!"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"And tell me, Mr. Moore, how exactly is any of this relevant? So the rain removed dirt from the defendant's car! All that proves is the laws of physics!"

'**OBJECTION!**' sung slightly off-key.

"But remember!" countered Chance, his fists tightening, "Your own witness has reported that the rain stopped at 2:30, and Mr. Moore's Beetle did not reach tollbooth 1 until 2:45! In order for water to have gotten on the vehicle, it would have had to have been _kicked up_ by something…"

"_something like another vehicle running through a puddle!"_

Courtroom crowd go _crazy!!_

Bang! Bang! Bang! "ORDEEEEEEER UUUUUUUP!" bellowed Scotty. "Mr. Moore, are you suggesting that there _was_ another vehicle on the road that night?"

"I CLAIM IT, AND I CLAIM IT LOUD, YOUR HONOR!" Chancellor yelled melodramatically.

"Preposterous!" Krasivaya scorned. "All vehicles that entered the turnpike that night are perfectly accounted for! There was not other vehicle on that road but the defendant's!"

'**OBJECTION!**' sung in falsetto.

"Correction, Ms. Krasivaya," said Chance. "No other vehicle _went through the tollbooth_ other than the defendant's! However, as Detective Spade clearly testified…

_You can't see inside the booth itself… or in the small space behind it, where the employees park their cars._

"Unless the prosecution can prove that no one passed by tollbooth 1 other than the defendant, _anyone_ could have committed the murder! Even Judge Scotty!"

"HEY! Now wait a minute!" cried Scotty, "I'm not a killer! I'll have no more of your baseless accusations, Mr. Moore!" He raised his gavel.

"ACK!" Chancellor reeled back. "I was just using you as an example, your honor… I didn't mean anything by it!" _Apparently, Scotty didn't know I was kidding…_

Scotty eyed Chance carefully, and then set his gavel down gently. "I'm keeping a close eye on you, Mr. Moore…"

"As am I," Krasivaya proclaimed. "And it just so happens that I _can_ prove that no one else passed by tollbooth 1 that day, Mr. Moore. The prosecution calls its final witness to the stand!"

The final witness was a tall man of Asian descent. He stood fully erect at the stand, his short, black hair moving slightly from the breeze of the air conditioner. He wore a crisp green army jacket, with blue slacks and a neatly pressed, crimson dress shirt.

"Name? Occupation?" asked Krasivaya.

"Truman Hitokiri" the man said tersely. "I work at tollbooth 12 on Uccisore Turnpike."

"Mr. Hitokiri," Krasivaya prompted. "Please give your testimony, and seal the case against the defendant."

"Alright then" Truman responded. "No one passed my tollbooth at all that night, except for Mr. Moore."

Silence.

"_That's it?_" Chancellor's jaw dropped. "Don't you have… anything else to say?"

"No." Truman looked forward apathetically.

"Unfortunately for you, that's all that's required, Mr. Moore" Krasivaya said. "Unless you can find some miracle angle to work this case from, you're finished." She smiled, but for some reason, the usual satisfaction she felt was absent.

Chancellor stared down at his desk. "I'm… I'm going to cross-examine now, Judge Scotty," he finally stuttered out.

"Cross-examine what?" asked Scotty, perplexed.

"If you don't know, I don't…" Chancellor mumbled under his breath. He cleared his throat, and glanced down into his chain. Nothing. He was on his own.

"Mr. Hitokiri, you work at tollbooth 1, correct?"

"Yes."

"That's the booth Mr. Moore entered his trip from?"

"Yes."

"Can you give more than a one word response?" Chancellor asked, frustrated.

"No."

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Your honor!" demanded Krasivaya. "The witness is being non-responsive! He is here to testify!"

_Did she just help me?_ Chance looked at Krasivaya. _Thanks _he mouthed.

_Just don't screw this up_ she mouthed back. Then she winked.

Chancellor scratched behind his ear and turned bright red. "Er… um… well… Mr. Hitokiri!"

"What now?" he asked, clearly annoyed.

"So… you're certain that Mr. Moore went by your booth that night?"

"Yes." He paused for a moment, waiting until Krasivaya prepared to scream to continue. "I saw his green Volkswagen Beetle pull by the booth."

"I said _Mr. Moore_, not the car" Chancellor emphasized.

Truman rolled his eyes. "Yes. I'm sure Mr. Moore went by. I talked with him face to face, after all."

'**OBJECTION!**' sung in a perfect tenor.

"Mr. Hitokiri, I have to ask, why would you lie about something like that?" Chancellor tried to manage a hateful glare, but just missed.

"What… what do you mean?" Hitokiri faltered.

"What I mean is, while you may work at tollbooth 1, you only talk to customers when they're _ending _their trips! Mr. Moore _entered_ the turnpike using your booth, and didn't even stop!" Chancellor smiled internally. He hadn't messed it up this time!

"Oh… yes, well… I must be mistaken… perhaps I was thinking of someone else" Hitokiri stammered.

"Which means that there _was_ another person who passed by that night!" Chance pounced.

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"The witness has said nothing of the sort, your honor!" Krasivaya quickly covered. "Mr. Hitokiri, will you explain away this discrepancy?"

"Erm... yes, well… It's like I said! I must be confusing Mr. Moore with someone I spoke with earlier that night. That's all." Hitokiri looked back and forth, hoping his explanation would pass.

"That kind of puts your credibility as witness in question, doesn't it?" pressed Chancellor. "After all, if you can't remember seeing Mr. Moore, and you mix up with other people so easily…"

"I remember seeing Mr. Moore!" Truman snapped. "I watched him go by out of boredom, he was the only car that passed by that late at night."

"Alone, yes?" Chancellor baited.

"What? Yes!" Truman slipped. "He was alone!"

'**OBJECTION!**' sung harshly.

"Another lie, Mr. Hitokiri." Chancellor shook his head, smiling. "Why do you keep doing this to us?" He smirked, glancing at Truman with a knowing look. "You're not trying to _hide_ something, are you?"

"WHAT?" Hitokiri reeled back. "NO! Of course not! I'm just… a bit under the weather, that's all…"

"Is lying a physical illness now?" posed Chance. "They should make some cream for that, or maybe some sort of surgery, I think I see your nose getting a _hair _longer… his voice trailed off. For the first time in the trial, he Chancellor looked one hundred percent serious. "Mr. Hitokiri" he stated. "You have lied on two occasions thus far. 1) To establish your credibility as a witness, and 2) to distance yourself from the victim in this murder. Perhaps it's just me, but this can only mean one thing…" he struck an 'objection' pose. _"You are Mr. Revadac's real killer!"_

"WHAAAAT?" Hitokiri fell over on the stand. "How…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"How on earth do you hope to prove such a thing, Mr. Moore?" Krasivaya challenged. "You want us to believe that a man in a tollbooth would catch a glimpse of a person riding in a car, and decide to commit murder?" She smashed the wall behind her with her hand. "That is _preposterous!_"

'**OBJECTION!**' sung opera-style.

"And what if it wasn't their first meeting?" Chancellor tensed. Everything was going exactly as planned. "What if they had met earlier? _Years_ earlier in fact?"

"I'm not sure what you…" Krasivaya started.

"Take a look at this, Scotty!" He held up the precious 'Kyoto' file. "This here is a collection of newspaper clippings, covering the capture of an American cargo ship. This ship was caught selling contraband weapons to North Vietnam during the Vietnam War!" He pointed to a passage in the file. "Krasivaya? If you could lend me your pretty voice…"

Krasivaya turned red, then read the passage aloud. "One of the smugglers, Truman Hitokiri, has identified another man, one 'Greg Arias' as the leader of the expedition. A recent picture of Arias is shown here…" she stopped. Her bright, blue eyes bulged out of their sockets. "Th-th-th… that's!"

Chancellor nodded solemnly. "Go on. It's alright."

Krasivaya felt something catch in her throat. "That picture... that is General Revadac." She said reluctantly.

Chancellor nodded. "You see? A motive for murder if I've ever seen one." He pointed accusingly at Hitokiri. _"Isn't that right, witness??"_

Truman raised his arms up in defense. "Huh? What? No! I never…" He smashed his fist down onto the stand. "NOW WAIT JUST A MINUTE! Just because I have a _reason_ to kill doesn't mean I _did it!_"

Krasivaya nodded. "You're absolutely right, Mr. Hitokiri. That's like saying Mr. Moore can date a man just because he looks like a woman."

Chancellor literally fell over. '**OBJECTION!**' he sang, rising from the floor. "_OK, THAT'S JUST GOING TOO FAR!"_

Krasivaya laughed. "My apologies, Mr. Moore, but the point still stands. Unless you can provide some sort of solid evidence tying Mr. Hitokiri to the murder, you have done nothing but pose a decent theory."

Chancellor gestured dramatically. "Evidence? You want evidence? Fine! It should be arriving just about… NOW!"

BANG!

Just then, Ricardo Writchard (who had been waiting outside the door) kicked open the courtroom doors, strolled in, handed Chancellor a slip of paper and a chocolate-covered strawberry, and walked out nonchalantly. There was silence for a minute, as Chance read over and the rest of the crowd wondered incredulously what had just happened.

Chancellor cleared his throat. "Your honor" he began "at this time, the defense would like to re-call the defendant Thompson Moore… it will be very short, I doubt that he even has to take the stand."

Scotty didn't know what was going on, but decided 'oh well, what the hell' and went with it. "Very well. The witness may make a statement."

"Thank you, your honor." Chancellor turned to face his father. "Did you see any other cars on the road that night?"

"Yes, I did" Thompson nodded. "I saw a green Corvette whip by my car when I pulled over to let Mr. Revadac out."

"No further questions" Chancellor smiled.

Krasivaya stood uneasily, unsure of what had just happened. "Mr. Moore? What exactly was the point of that? _Of course_ the defendant would claim to have seen another car… besides that, I don't even think they _make_ green Corvettes…"

"Follow my train of logic for a minute, will you?" implored Chancellor. "For starters, think about what you just said. Most people have never seen a green Corvette, in fact, I'm fairly certain they _don't_ make them! Why on earth would Mr. Moore try to cover for himself by saying he saw a car that he doesn't know exists? _That! Does not! Make! Sense!_" Chancellor's speaking quickened; there was no turning back now. "Let's follow that a bit further, shall we? Having no knowledge that such a car existed, he would _also _have no knowledge of who _owned_ such a car, correct? He wouldn't be able to use the information to cover for himself?"

Krasivaya shifted uncomfortably. As much as she hated to admit it, Moore was making more and more sense. "Yes… that seems valid to me…" she heard herself say.

"Then you'll have no objections…" Chancellor bellowed, "When I tell you that the only green Corvette in all of Boston _belongs to none other than Truman Hitokiri!"_

The courtroom burst into discord. Judge Scotty banged on his gavel over and over again, but to no avail. Krasivaya started pulling at her hair; she knew it was over. Truman Hitokiri began pounding his head against the witness stand, and Thompson began to dance a little jig.

Chancellor popped the chocolate-covered strawberry into his mouth and waited. There was no way left but 'innocent' from here.

When the courtroom finally died down, Chancellor explained the events of that night. "Truman Hitokiri, having finally gotten out of years of imprisonment, must have been quite shocked when he saw the face of the man he hated with his whole being drive by. Overcome with hatred, he got into his car and followed behind Mr. Moore; he wasn't seen because the security camera doesn't show the employee parking area. When Thompson had to pull over to the side, Mr. Hitokiri drove by; it was then when he splashed water on Mr. Moore's car, causing it to appear cleaner. He then doubled back, caught up with Mr. Revadac, and murdered him."

"I can understand why he didn't run him over… the blood splatter on the car would make it obvious it was him…" Krasivaya mused. "But where did the surgeon's scalpel come from?"

Hitokiri hung his head. "It… was just lying there on the road… it must have fallen out of Mr. Moore's car…"

Chancellor did a double take. "Wait… are you confessing?"

"Yes."

"That… that soon?"

"Yes."

Chancellor stared at the witness, unbelieving. "Don't you think that… you could have still gotten away with it? I haven't exactly…"

"No."

It was Chancellor who hung his head this time, but not in shame. He only did it to hide the tears of joy flooding down his face. At long last, it was over.

-District Courthouse, Defendant's Lobby 2. 11:45 am.

Writchard was waiting for the Moores when they burst into the room, overcome with joy.

"VICTORY SCREEEEEECH!!" the private eye yelled.

"OLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOOOO!" the three of them… well, screeched. It would have gone on for several more minutes had not Morage Thenue stepped into the room, holding both ears in pain.

"_MOORE!"_ he yelled. "_STOP THAT INFERNAL CACAPHONY AND GET OVER HERE!!"_

Chancellor nearly had a heart attack. He had worked so hard to win his first case, and he was _still_ going to be fired? Not cool. He rushed over to Thenue, his head down. "Sir… I'm very sorry sir, I…"

"Good job" the veteran attorney said.

Chancellor's mind went completely blank. He had never heard Morage Thenue compliment _anyone_ before. "Come again?" he finally managed.

"I said good job" Thenue iterated. He looked down at the ground. "To be honest… I never liked you, Moore." He tried to meet Chance's eyes, but failed. "The only reason I got you an extension is because this trial was against Krasivaya… I thought for sure you'd lose…" He cleared his throat, and then patted the white-haired attorney on the back awkwardly. "Good job, son!" he suddenly said, over-emphatically, "You've done the firm proud!"

"It's nice to see my lawyers have such a healthy relationship" came Thompson's voice from the other side of the room. "Though I'm not sure I like your policy of assuming a case is a guaranteed loss…" He smiled. "On second thought, I'm probably a bit biased, so just disregard my opinion."

Thenue gave the doctor a queer look. _What a strange family…_ he murmured under his breath. "Well, Chancellor!" he said aloud, "I'd best be getting to the office then, the next client could be just around the corner!' He walked out of the room briskly, putting as much distance between him and the weirdoes as possible.

Chancellor shook his head in disbelief. _Some boss…_ He felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder. He turned around, and looked into his father's smiling face.

"Thank you, son" said Thompson. "Let's hope this never happens again."

Chancellor nodded. "Yeah…" he laughed. "I hope I get a guilty person next time, defending the innocent is _way_ too stressful."

"Indeed" came a feminine voice from behind Chancellor. Chancellor smiled, then turned to face madam prosecutor. Something struck him as odd; if he didn't know better, he'd say she was… he didn't know better. She was clearly uncomfortable and nervous.

Krasivaya refused to meet Chance's eyes. "Mr. Moore…" she began. "You have to understand something… I… have _never_ lost… ever. For years now, I have absolutely squashed every worthless defense attorney out there…" She looked up, still not meeting Chance's eyes. "You have to understand… I'm… disappointed in myself right now… and angry. I want you to understand that… so you can appreciate what I have to say next…" She paused. Then she looked into Chance's eyes, and smiled. "Congratulations" she said, "I hope we meet again, Mr. Moore." She turned to leave.

"Hey! Krasivaya!" Chancellor yelled, causing her to turn around abruptly.

"Yes?" she asked, caught off guard.

He smiled. "My name is Chancellor. Call me Chance."

She looked at him for a minute, and then smiled back. "My name is Tanya" she replied. She turned to leave again.

"Wait! One more thing!" he called. She turned back around. "What do you think of chocolate-covered strawberries?" He held his breath. His view of her for the rest of eternity depended on her answer.

She looked at him with a puzzled look. "They're nature's most perfect food. Why do you ask?"

Chancellor beamed. "You'll find out later. See you around!"

She gave him a questionable look, then smiled again. She gave a small wave, then turned around for the final time and walked out the door. The three men watched her leave.

Chancellor turned to Writchard. "It's going to be a good life, isn't it?"

Writchard turned to Chancellor. "You are the _luckiest_ man alive, Chance."

"She's that pretty huh?" he smiled.

"Not that!" Writchard explained. "You actually won in court today!" He put on a big grin, and punched Chance in the arm playfully. "If that's not luck, I don't know what is."

Chancellor's right eye began to twitch; then, without warning, he leaped on Ricky. He tightened his hands around the private eye's throat and began to squeeze, Ricky gagging hysterically.

"Don't do it, Chance!" laughed Thompson. "A lawyer who defends himself has a _fool_ for a client!" Then, as soon as the fight at broken out, it was over. Pizza was ordered, and a toast was made to the world's newest Ace Attorney: Chancellor Moore.

Name Origins

Skip this part if you want, but I like reading these things, even when I've already figured out where the names come from.

-Chancellor and Thompson Moore.

Thomas More was an English lawyer in the 1500's. He was chancellor of England from 1529-1532. In Catholicism, he is the patron saint of lawyers.

Chancellor's name was also picked for use in puns such as: "Give me another Chance!" or "Tell me more, Mr. Moore."

The name was changed from 'More' to 'Moore' to honor a candy shop in my town that sells delicious chocolate-covered strawberries.

-Ricardo Writchard

Thomas More was rowed to court every day by a poor peasant named Ritchie Rich (seriously). Ricardo Writchard is just an embellishment of that.

-Morage Thenue

Depending on how you read it, it can be 'more rage then you' or 'more age then you' squished together. Describes his angry nature and the fact that he's an older man.

-Tracy Spade

Allusions to two famous detectives: Dick Tracy and Sam Spade.

-Tanya Krasivaya.

In Russian, 'Krasivaya' means 'beautiful'. Tanya is just a common Russian girl's name.

-Judge Scotty

Named purely so I could make reference to the song 'Scotty doesn't know' by Lustra.

-Liam Sirius.

He uses the word 'seriously' all the time! Rearrange the two names and get "Seriously am".

-General Revadac

Revadac is 'cadaver' (dead body) backwards. It refers to the fact that he's just a random victim I made up so I could write a murder story.

-Truman Hitokiri

'Hitokiri' means 'killer' in Japanese, so when run together, his name reads: "True man-killer."

-Uccisore Turnpike

The first word isn't made up; it's Italian for 'killer'.

-St. Maladie General Hospital.

'Maladie' is French for 'illness'.

Oh, and if you're wondering, they _don't_ make green Corvettes. At least not '08s.

**END.**


	2. The Giant, Radioactive Turnabout

You thought it was over

You thought it was over. You thought it was just a one-shot. You thought it would finally leave you alone and let you get on with your life.

You were wrong.

Amaxing Fan Fiction Inc. proudly presents:

_**THE RETURN OF CHANCELLOR MOORE!**_

(Silence)

What? No… no cheering? No… oh…. Fine. Let's get this started then…

Disclaimer: Oh, I wish I owned a game like Ace Attorney… but I don't.

The Giant, Radioactive Turnabout

Chancellor Moore knew only one party trick. Well, actually two if you counted singing '**OBJECTION!**' loudly, but that one wasn't _exactly_ popular. The other trick Chancellor knew was both quieter and more awe-inspiring. Those who saw it were immediately envious, and begged, nay, pleaded, for Chancellor to teach them how it was done. Chancellor, despite his fellow man's thirst for knowledge, never told them. Not that he could.

His party trick was his amazing ability to fall asleep anytime, anyplace, no matter what was going on.

The secret, as far as he knew, wasn't worth telling, as it only applied to him (or so he assumed). Anytime he wanted to drop into his subconscious and rest, he would start playing Cher's greatest hits in his head, and the resulting cacophony would cause his body to pass out to prevent any further brain damage. Not that there's anything wrong with Cher, but that's what worked for Chance (have to stay politically correct, after all).

On top of that, whenever Chancellor slept, no matter how deeply or for how long, he would dream. On this particular occasion, he was in court: not a legal court, but the court of the royal family of chocolate-covered strawberries. He was there to court the lovely princess Sedalia, and was eagerly awaiting her arrival. As always, Beethoven's Choral Fantasy played in the background.

After minutes of anxious waiting, she finally came. A carriage the shape of a chocolate-covered pumpkin arrived, dark brown stallions pulling furiously at the reins. The princess stepped out, her dark, crimson hair tied up in a bow, her brown dress clinging to her like… Chancellor gasped. The dress _was_ made of chocolate. Dozens of thoughts, omitted here for the purposes of keeping a T rating, rushed through Chance's head as he gazed upon the chocolate-covered beauty. He cocked his head and focused on her face for a moment. If he didn't know better, he'd say that she looked like… he didn't know better. It was…

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" came a scratchy screech from the outside world.

Chancellor, dozing off on the swivel chair in his office, woke with a start, toppled out of his chair and fell hard to the floor. "Mr. Thenue!" he cried, springing to attention. "I'm very sorry sir! I didn't have my chocolate-covered strawberry today and…"

"_Do I look like I care, Moore?_" screamed Morage, a vein popping out of his bright-red face. "_Chocolate-covered strawberries! It's always about those damn strawberries with you, isn't it?_ I'm tired, because I didn't have a chocolate-covered strawberry!" the man continued in a mocking tone. "I can't work because I didn't get my strawberry fix! I don't have the will to live unless I have my chocolate! _All this chocolate makes me sick, Moore!_" he finished, slamming Chancellor's desk and causing papers to fly everywhere.

"Hey!" Chancellor snapped. "Great, just great, I just got those organized! It took me _so long_ to do, too, what with all the clients I've been having lately!" He grinned, but not enough for Thenue to notice.

Thenue noticed. "Wipe that smile off your face, Moore!" He bellowed, not caring that spit was now flying into Chancellor's never-groomed hair. "Those clients are the _only reason_ you're still working at this firm, do you hear me?" He backed off a bit, grumbling to himself. "If we fired you after all the money you've raked in, it'd be like the final episodes of 'The Practice'."

"And then we could start every day with the 'Boston Legal' theme song!" Chancellor chimed in. "You should fire me just so we can do that!"

"NO!" yelled Morage. He'd never admit it, but he actually kind of agreed with the idea. But he could never fire Chancellor. Word has spread quickly that a young, upstart attorney had destroyed Tanya Krasivaya's perfect win record, and Thenue and Noble Law Offices had never had more clientele in its life. Chancellor had succeeded in creating a perfect win record of his own: eleven straight trials won in only a month. Granted, only one had been against Krasivaya; the rest had been against opponents with no more skill than Winston Payne.

"Fine, fine," Chance conceded after the recap was finished. "What can I do for you, Mr. Thenue?" He smiled his best fake 'I'm really glad to see you, boss' smile.

Morage responded with his best fake 'I really don't want to strangle you right now, you overconfident, cocky bastard' look. It wasn't very good. "Why else would I be here?" he asked rhetorically. "Another day, another case, another client. The defense never rests, no?" He chuckled to himself. A rare show of joy for Thenue, even if it _was_ his own bad joke.

Chancellor groaned. "A pun my word, Mr. Thenue, that was _hilarious._" He tried to speak respectfully, but to no avail. "So what's the case this time?"

"Your case, if you choose to accept it" Morage began, as he did every time, "involves an incident that took place last night in Posheton Estates, an upper-class neighborhood on the outskirts of town. The manager of Safeguard Nuclear Power, one Ashley Nook, was found dead inside one of her employee's houses, that of André Ne Chrome."

"Nice name" whistled Chancellor. "Too bad 'Andre' isn't in the dictionary…"

Thenue gave Moore a puzzled look. He was going to regret asking, but… "Why exactly does it matter if it's in the dictionary or not?"

Chancellor flashed a smile. "I named myself," he explained. "I opened a dictionary on my first day at Dad's house and liked the way 'Chancellor' sounded, especially next to 'Moore'. I thought it had a really cool ring to it."

Thenue shook his head. _The Moore you know…_ he thought to himself, _the less you wish you knew._ "I'm assuming you'll want to talk to the client before doing anything else, yes?" He ordered in the form of a question.

"I'm assuming you've already scheduled the exact time that I'm going to see my client, yes?" Chancellor complied in the form of a question. _What is this? Jeopardy?_

"1:00 pm." Morage answered succinctly. "Seeing as it's 12:30 now, you might want to get going."

Chancellor sighed. "There goes my lunch break then…" he shook his head, allowing his hair to shift back and forth freely. "That means you've made me miss _two_ chocolate-covered strawberries today, Mr. Thenue. You must feel proud."

Morage actually smiled. "Any time I make you a little Moore miserable, Moore, I make myself a little Moore happier. Deal with it. Accept it. Make it your own."

Chancellor rolled his eyes. He got up, gathered a few papers and belongings together, and began to leave.

"Oh, and Chancellor?" Thenue called, causing Chance to turn around.

"Yes?" he responded.

Thenue smirked. "The prosecutor on this case… it's Krasivaya. I just thought you might want to know." He turned around and walked towards the other offices. "The prosecutor's office is on 7th and Maine, if you want to… gather more information about the case."

Chancellor scratched his head, ruffling his hair in the process. If he didn't know better, he'd say Morage was trying to… Chancellor paused. He had expected something to happen that would cause his doubts to become unfounded. He shrugged, and finished his thought. …play matchmaker.

He turned around to leave and gasped. He had forgotten about the mirror on the office door. _Button your top button!_ Came a subconscious nag from inside his head. _No! _he yelled back, and hurried out the door, making sure to not catch his reflection in any of the car mirrors out in the parking lot.

-Boston Detention Center, 5/20, 12:57 P.M.

"Don't worry Mr. Ne Chrome! I'm going to get you out of here! I promise!"

Those were the words that Chancellor heard yelled… no, sobbed as he entered the room. They had come from a girl of seventeen pressed against the glass, her long, bright, blonde pigtails streaking against it along with the tears flowing out of her dark green eyes.

"Um… hello?" Chancellor ventured.

The young girl turned slowly to face Chance. "What do you want, lady?" She asked, clearly irritated that she had been interrupted.

Chancellor twitched uncontrollably. _Must… resist… urge… to… strangle…._

"Mr. Moore?" came a soft, high-toned voice from behind the glass. "Is that you?"

"It's a woman, Andre, its not Chancellor Moore" hushed the girl.

"And you would know that… how?" asked Chance in as deep a voice as possible.

The girl jumped. Literally. "OW!" she cried as her head hit the low ceiling of the room. Not a second after she hit the ground, she was back up, pointing accusingly at Chance. "_What's the big idea, buddy?"_ She screamed accusingly, causing him to step back. "_Do you like dressing as a woman and then scaring the living daylights out of innocent people like that? Is that your idea of some kind of sick joke? The _nerve_ of people! You're just like that guy Ashton Kutcher! OOOOOH! Have I been PUNK'D now? Is that it? Well you see here, buddy…_

'**OBJECTION!**' yelled Chancellor, sending the girl flying again. "_Calm down, will you?"_ yelled Chance. "That's a nice way to treat your friend's defense attorney! Did you treat your doctors like that after they sewed you up for bumping your head? Too bad they couldn't fix the brain damage that came with it!" _What the… I just got dragged down to the level of a high school kid. That's just _SO_ professional of me._

The girl looked at Chance for a minute, then laughed. "You know, for being an adult, that was a pretty good zing!" she admitted. She smiled. "And you even made me feel better too… aren't you just the sweetest?"

"Eh?" Chancellor was caught off guard, and blushed. "Oh… well, it's nothing really, um…"

She laughed again, then extended her hand delicately. "The name's Cassandra. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Moore" she said in a mock-British accent.

Chance took the hand warily and shook it. Cassandra motioned for him to sit, and he dumped himself onto the worn, wooden bench. "Mr. Ne' Chrome, I presume?" he asked, looking at his client for the first time.

Andre nodded. He was a gaunt man, and thin black wiry hair ran down his face. It stopped just above his dark red eyes, which were almost lost within the dark, black rings that surrounded his eye sockets. One could describe him as looking like a madman, and an artist who had never seen him before could draw quite an accurate picture.

_Great,_ thought Chancellor, _so much for the 'Does this look like the face of a killer?' ploy. _He cleared his throat. "Mr. Ne' Chrome… perhaps you could start by telling me what happened that day?"

"Sounds like a decent place…" Andre barely whispered. "I work at Safeguard Nuclear Plant as a safety supervisor. That afternoon, I got off my shift as usual around 5:00 pm and drove straight home. I took a shower, watched a little TV… then the police burst my door down and dragged me away after finding Ms. Nook's body in my bedroom." He looked straight at Chance all the time while speaking, and his voice remained eerily calm, yet warbled unnaturally from time to time.

"What was the body doing there?" asked Chancellor, uneasily.

Ne' Chrome shrugged. "Beats me, I didn't know it was there until they told me."

Chancellor almost fell over. _Oh C'mon! You _honestly_ expect me to believe there was a _cadaver_ in your house, and you had NO CLUE??_ He collected himself. He had to handle this situation with tact and grace.

"Oh C'mon!" Chancellor screamed suddenly, "You _honestly _expect me to believe there was a _cadaver _in your house, and you had _NO CLUE??_" He calmed himself. "Now granted, Mr. Ne' Chrome, since I'm your attorney, you're basically paying me to believe whatever you want me to believe, but you can't expect me to do a decent job defending you with a story like that! It's best if you tell me the whole truth; confidentiality will keep me from saying a word, and I'll be better able to defend you too!" Chancellor took a deep breath, the rant had taken a lot out of him, but it had felt good. Now they were getting somewhere. He looked his client in the eye.

Andre Ne' Chrome's lower lip was quivering violently, and tears began to well in his eyes. "_What's your problem, Moore?_" Cassandra slapped him hard on the arm. "Now he's gonna…"

"W-W-W…" Ne' Chrome stuttered, tears pooling in his eyes... "What's wrong with my story? I thought… I thought it was a good story…" He looked down. "Mother always said the best stories were the true ones, and… and…" he began to gasp unnaturally, his body heaving heavily as water began to streak down his face.

"Alright! Alright! I believe you!" Chancellor consoled hurriedly. "Just… please, calm down!"

"Oh… so… you like my story now?" Ne' Chrome asked eerily.

Chancellor fought the urge to inch away from his client, but to no avail. He began to rise, thinking of a reason to excuse himself, but a stern look from Cassandra brought him back down. "I know he seems… well, odd" she whispered harshly in his ear. "But if you quit on him I will _never_ forgive you." Chancellor looked at Cassandra's face, and for the first time in several years, he feared for his life. He turned back to Ne' Chrome. "So," he began, avoiding answering Ne' Chrome's question, "What exactly was your relationship to the victim?"

"Ms. Nook is… was…" he chuckled slightly at his error, and Chancellor's eyes bugged out. "… my boss. She was a fine woman... I would often try to…seduce her, but well, it would seem I remind her too much of Salad Fingers to even be considered dateable."

_That's it!_ Chancellor realized. _That's_ exactly_ who this guy reminds me of!_

"Other then that, would you say you two were on good terms?" Chancellor asked.

"Oh, mercy, no" Ne' Chrome chuckled. "She was always yelling at me about how I was scaring the other workers, how I was terrible at my job and should have been fired, and how I should cut my fingernails." He held up his hands to reveal his long, jagged, dirty, worn down nails. "But honestly, I think they help me do my job better. The workers don't dare cross me or…" his sentence trailed off eerily, and for the second time in several years, Chancellor feared for his life.

"Right then!" said Chancellor, again overcome with a desire to get out as soon as possible, "we're going to have to enter a plea of 'not guilty', and I'll be needing directions to both your house and your workplace."

"My… my workplace?" Ne' Chrome asked, confused.

"My motto is: 'Leave no stone unturned'" Chancellor recited. _Because that way, even if I _do_ mess my information up, I have the actual proof _somewhere.

Ne' Chrome was impressed, and gave Chancellor the addresses.

"Duty calls!" yelled Chancellor in a chivalrous voice, and ran out of the room, relieved.

"Don't think you're going _anywhere_ without me, buddy!" Cassandra yelled, chasing after him.

- 609 Posheton Estates, Ne' Chrome house. 5/20. 1:30 pm.

"So yeah, Ne' Chrome and my father have been friends since childhood" Cassandra finished as Chancellor pulled up to the curb outside Ne' Chrome manor. "I know he looks and acts a bit… well, creepy, but he's wouldn't hurt a fly."

"Why do I find that hard to believe?" Chancellor muttered under his breath, locking his car with a clicker. "Tell me, why did I let you come along again?"

"Because every lawyer needs a beautiful young woman to assist him on cases?" Cassandra implied, batting her eyelids.

"We'll go with 'young woman' and leave it at that, OK?" Chancellor chuckled.

Cassandra put on an over exaggerated frown, and looked back at Chancellor's car. "You know…" she mused, "I didn't even know they _made_ green corvettes, and since when does a defense attorney have a car?"

Chancellor laughed. "It's not against the law for a defense attorney to have a car, you know. And with what I make, I can certainly afford it!"  
Cassandra looked at him with narrow, piercing eyes. "You got it cheap because the owner went to jail, didn't you?"

"Four-hundred thirty-five dollars and sixty-seven cents" Chancellor admitted. "And it was worth every penny."

"AND JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK_ YOU'RE_ DOING HERE, LADY?" came a gravelly voice from the scene.

Cassandra jumped, literally, for the second time that day. Within a second she was back on her feet, proving to the world that hell hath not fury like a woman scorned.

"_What on earth's the big idea, buddy?_" she yelled at the man. _"Do you enjoy sneaking up on innocent little children and barking at them in a strange demonic voice? Is that how you get you sick kicks? OOOOOOOOH! What the hell is this world coming to? There's you, there's _him, _there's Hugh Jackman, and there's…"_

Tracy Spade peeked out from behind his upheld arm. "I didn't even notice you were there, girly!" He apologized. "I was talking to the lady next to you!"

"IT'S ME, DETECTIVE!" Now it was Chancellor's turn to snap. "Good gravy, I only show up habitually at every crime scene you investigate, _you think_ you'd know I wasn't a woman by now!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Spade waved his hands, trying to calm his aggressors down. "I just wanted to know why you're here, I didn't know it was you, Mr. Moore!"

"Well that's alright then." Cassandra nodded her head. "I didn't know he was a man either until I heard him speak."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Chancellor reeled. "If you're going to be my assistant, you've got to be on my side, got it?"

"Wrong!" snapped Cassandra. "As your assistant, it's my duty to point out the error of your ways when your own character flaws blind you from the truth!"

"What? That's just… um…" Chancellor hung his head, not in shame, but in pain. The argument had given him a migraine. What was the point? "Fine" he conceded. "I'll admit, it _is_ rather easy to mistake me for a woman… can we go in now?"

"You're not allowed inside the house!" Tracy barked. "It's a crime scene! Set one foot in there and you'll be looking at your _own_ jail sentence, you hear?"

"But I thought detectives were supposed to be good friends with attorneys and help them solve cases! That's how it works in other stories!" Cassandra whined.

Chancellor looked at her. "This isn't a story, Cassie. This is real life."

"Says you!" snapped Cassie. "_You_ don't have the power to break the fourth wall, now do you?"

"What the…" Chancellor sputtered. "_There is no fourth wall! This is real, you…_ oh what's the use?" He hung his head in migraine again.

"Right…" Spade said uneasily. "Like I said, no going into the house, you got that? Any information you need about the crime is only going to come from one place, and that's from yours truly."

"So you _will_ help us, then?" Chancellor asked.

"I wouldn't call it help" Spade muttered "I'd call it more like fighting fair…"

"That's the spirit!" chimed in Cassie, waving her fists around in the air. "Let's go! Let's knock this case out of the park! Let's let this case know its number is up! Let's…"

"So, detective!" Chancellor interrupted, causing Cassie to cross her arms and wrinkle her nose in a huff, "What exactly…er… happened, here?"

"The case, as we see it right now is open and shut" Spade explained. "We found Ms. Nook's body on Mr. Ne' Chrome's bed. We found a HAZMAT suit from the plant absolutely soaked in the victim's blood in the trunk of Mr. Ne' Chrome's Ferrari, leading us to believe that the murder actually occurred _there_, the plant, I mean, and that Mr. Ne' Chrome moved the body _here_ to dispose of it. Ms. Nook was stabbed… well, more like ripped, through the throat; the blade went in around the center of her throat and came out the right side, taking the jugular out with it."

"Ouch" winced Chancellor. "Whoever did that has to have been packing some _major_ muscle to rip all the flesh and blood out like that."

"Needless to say, it wasn't a pretty sight" Tracy concluded.

"Why arrest Mr. Ne' Chrome, though?" accused Cassandra. "Couldn't _anybody_ have taken the body to his house and _framed _him?"

"Out of the question" Tracy shook his head. "We have security footage from the main gate and from the house across the street that makes the notion one-hundred percent impossible."

"Care to elaborate on that a little?" asked Chance hopefully.

"NOT A CHANCE, CHANCE!" barked Spade. "As if I'd tell you what the prosecution is planning to use for its case, do you think I'm a blundering moron?"

"Detectives in _other_ stories are!" Cassandra countered.

Chancellor sighed, shaking his head. "If you just give us the autopsy report, detective, I promise I'll take this deluded child away, ok?"

"Deal!" said Detective Spade, and handed Chancellor the report.

"Hey! _Deluded?_ _Now you see here, buddy…_"

Autopsy Report: Time of death: Between five and six pm, 5/19. Victim is thought to have died from a single wound, entering at the center of the throat and coming out the right side of the neck, slicing through the anterior and internal jugulars."

"There's more than one jugular?" Cassandra asked as they headed back to the car.

"I think there's three, actually, but I may be wrong" Chancellor mused.

"So what now?"

"Now we see what other tidbits we can get from 'the man'." Chancellor smiled. "And a very _cute_ man, at that."

-Prosecutor's office. 5/20. 2:30 pm.

Tanya Krasivaya reclined comfortably in her plush office chair. The reports had all come in, the crime scene had been gone over with a fine-tooth comb, and all the evidence she needed to win was sitting in a protected bin inside police headquarters. She smiled to herself, shaking her head in wonder. It never ceased to amaze her how, in just twelve hours, a case could be solved, a truth could be revealed, and a killer could be brought to justice. It was just so easy. In fact, it was too easy.

She sat up, concerned at the thought she had just had. _Is this job really getting too easy?_ She asked herself. _Am I that good or are this town's defense attorneys that incompetent?_ She searched herself for a minute. _The last time I actually felt challenged in court…_ she remembered… _was with…_

Knock, Knock, Knock!

"Come in!" said Tanya, momentarily shocked by the noise disturbing her thoughts. She looked up, and saw a casually dressed woman with shoulder length white hair walk in her room. _Except it isn't a woman_, she reminded herself. _It's…_

"Ms. Krasivaya?" asked Chancellor, softly closing the door behind him. "May I talk to you for a minute?"

"Mr. Moore" said Tanya, rising out of her chair and extending her hand. "A pleasure to see you again."

"Hey!" said Chancellor, smiling and taking her hand. "You remembered!"

Tanya smiled back. "I'm quite good with names, Mr. Moore."

"Not that" Chancellor dismissed with a wave. "You remembered that I'm a man!"

Tanya looked at him funny. "I don't see how one could forget, Mr. Moore, it was one of the biggest shocks of my life."

"Spade could" muttered Chancellor. "Even though he sees me practically every other day…"

Tanya chuckled. "Well, that's Spade for you. Not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed." She looked at Chance curiously. "What is it you're here for, Mr. Moore?"

"Well…" said Chancellor, a hand behind his head. "How are you, first of all?" he asked abruptly.

Krasivaya was momentarily startled by the suddenness of the question, but quickly recovered. "I've been doing alright," she said. "I can't really complain."

"Well that's good" Chance nodded. "I can't honestly see anything you'd _have _to complain about."

Silence. Both stood there, a bit put off by what the white-haired one had just said. _Good gravy, I hate the people that write my dialogue… ack! Now _I'm_ doing it too!_

"Um… I didn't mean that to be quite so…" Chancellor began to explain.

"No, it's alright" Tanya said quickly. "I didn't think you meant…"

"Yeah, good… because I didn't."

"I wouldn't expect you to, I mean after all…"

"Yeah…"

There was silence again. It probably would have gone on for ages had a pig-tailed terror not gotten anxious sitting in the car.

"OK, I'M TIRED OF WAITING!" came a scream from the other side of the door. Chancellor made a face, and then ran to the door, trying to blockade it with his body. It was too late. Cassandra kicked open the door, a determined look on her face. "Ask her, Chance!" she demanded. "Ask her why… oh, dear, I'm sorry…" She pulled the door towards her, and Chancellor crawled out from where he had been slammed against the wall. "Anyway, ask her why they think Andy couldn't have been framed!"

Tanya laughed in amusement, and relief. "Who's this, Mr. Moore? Your little brother, perhaps?"

"Ha!" laughed Cassie. "As if this guy could have the honor of being related to…" she did a double take. "_HEY, DID YOU JUST CALL ME A BOY?"_ "_The NERVE of some people! What on earth would make you think…"_

"I've learned not to take such things for granted" Krasivaya apologized. "You'll forgive me, I thought maybe his entire family was screwed up."

Cassie stopped yelling, and nodded in agreement. "Oh, well if that's the case, I suppose you're right. You never know with this guy."

"Hey!" defended Chancellor, still lying on the floor in pain. "My father is perfectly normal! Tell her! Tell her!"

"His _adopted_ father is perfectly normal" Tanya told Cassie. "But I couldn't say the same for his real father."

"Who's his real father?" asked Cassie excitedly.

"Cassandra, think for a minute" Chancellor answered, standing up shakily, "if I was _adopted_, would I know who my real father was?"

Cassandra's face fell. "Oh… you're right… I'm sorry…." She glanced up at Chancellor, looking at him tenderly for the first time. "It must be hard…"

"Nah!" Chancellor dismissed. "I don't remember him at all; Thompson's been a great father to me anyway. Though I have to admit," he continued. "It would have been nice to have a mother…"

Cassie nodded. "I know what you mean."

Tanya cleared her throat. "Are you two going to sit around bonding all day, or are you going to stay focused?"

"I can't focus today" Chancellor whined, "I haven't had any chocolate-covered strawberries!"

Tanya stared at him for a moment with another queer look. She gave an over exaggerated sigh, rolled her eyes, and stooped behind her desk, emerging with a small metal box. "I don't know why I'm doing this, but… here." She opened the box, revealing no less than a dozen strawberries, smothered in milk chocolate.

Chancellor's jaw dropped, and he stared for a minute in amazement. "Amaxing…" he uttered. He turned to Krasivaya. "You've never been more beautiful than you are right now," he said in a sobbing tone. Krasivaya blushed, and Chance grabbed a strawberry, dropped it into his mouth, and allowed its richness to overflow his entire being.

-Twenty minutes later.

"Alright!" said Chancellor, finally allowing the last of the strawberry to drip down his throat. "IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII"M READYYYYYYYYY!" He struck his objection pose. "Yeah! You're going to tell us why Mr. Ne' Chrome was arrested!"

"I was?" Krasivaya asked. "When did I ever say that?"

Chancellor looked at her with a feigned look of hatred. "Krasivayaaaaaaaa" he growled.

She laughed. "Footage" she said. "We have security footage from the main gate and from across the street from Ne' Chrome's house. That's why we arrested him. No one else could have committed the crime."

"Right, right, Spade told us that" Chancellor said. "Do you care to tell us what was _on_ the footage?"

Krasivaya smiled. "You'll see in court, won't you?"

"Yeah, but…"

"If you don't have any other questions, you can leave, Mr. Moore".

"What about the murder weapon?" Chancellor asked quickly, looking down into his chain and realizing he hadn't thought about that yet.

"I suppose I _could_ tell you what the weapon was..." she smiled. "But what fun would that be? All I'll say for now is that it was something at the plant, and it was found in a broom closet."

Cassandra's jaw dropped. "You mean the murder weapon was some kind of sharp, metal broom?"

Chance and Tanya looked at her, not saying anything. "Yes" Tanya said sarcastically. "That's _exactly_ what I meant."

Chancellor shook his head in amazement, and turned back to face Tanya. "Any witnesses we should know about?"

"Well…" Tanya thought for a moment. "The cleaner lady at the plant says she saw something…" Krasivaya stretched, flaunting her… (Don't make me say it) "…But from what I can tell, her testimony isn't all that important."

_Ha!_ Chancellor thought _that won't work on me! Whenever you stretch, you've _got_ to be hiding something! … Kind of makes me wish you'd hide stuff more often…_

"Well thank you for your time" said Chance. "I suppose we should be going then, thanks again Ms. Krasivaya."

But Cassandra wasn't moving yet. She shook her head and looked at the prosecutor with disdain. "Gosh, Dad was right!" She exclaimed. "You really will open up for this guy whenever, huh?"

Chance and Tanya both fell to the floor in shock. Had she just said that? Had she really just said that? The reason we can say that, folks, is because you only have to take in a perverted way if you _want_ to.

"How dare he say something like that?" Tanya flustered. "Who… who is your father anyway?"

Cassandra put her finger next to her nose and winked. "I can't say; that'll ruin a major plot twist for a future case!"

Chance was going to remind Cassie that this was real life, not a story, but decided against it. "That's nice, Cassie, but you can tell your father that he's just plain wrong." He hauled himself from the floor and stood up straight. "As far as I know, there isn't anything going on here, understand?"

"Alright, fine…" Cassandra said, leaving the room slightly disappointed.

Chancellor turned to face Krasivaya. "Not that I'm against the idea." He winked at her and left. "DOSVEEDINYEH!"

"It's 'Da Sveedanya'" Tanya called back softly. She smiled. Maybe this job wasn't so boring after all.

-Safeguard Nuclear Plant, Main Gate. 5/20. 3:03 pm.

"Is that safe?" asked Cassie, peering in at the plant.

"Is what safe?" queried Chance.

"_That_" she pointed between two large silo-like structures at a large, open pit, occasionally letting out puffs of colored smoke.

"An open pit of nuclear waste?" asked Chance rhetorically. "Of course that's safe! Why wouldn't that be safe?" His voice so dripped with sarcasm it sounded like a leaky faucet. (That… doesn't quite work, does it?)

"Excuse me!" came an indignant voice from inside the gate. "I'll have you know that this complex is _extremely _safe. I won't have you spreading rumors in order to get our environmentally friendly, clean, and green nuclear power plant shut down!" The gates swung open, and a tall, crisp-looking man wearing a well-fitting Armani suit and a large, black, stovetop hat strode out to greet the two. "Can I do anything for you?" he demanded, clearly not wanting to do anything for them.

"You could let us in!" pleaded Cassandra, getting straight to the point. "I'd love you forever Mr… um…"

"Streng" finished the man, beginning to bounce up and down on the balls of his feet. "Abraham Streng, and no, you're not allowed in. This plant has very strict rules, you see, and for safety purposes, no unauthorized parties are allowed in!"

"I'm a lawyer," said Chance told him. "And I'm representing Mr. Ne' Chrome, your safety supervisor. Is that good enough for you?"

"No!" Streng replied. The bouncing intensified. "What possible connection does this plant have to do with Mr. Ne' Chrome's case?"

"Well, the police think the murder occurred here… and there's a witness here, no?" Cassie reminded him. "Can't we see her?"

"I'm under strict orders from the police not to let anyone in, or to let the witness speak with anyone, _especially_ the attorney on this case!"

"Mr. Streng, do you want this plant to be sued?" asked Chance, threateningly.

"Wha-what on earth could you sue this plant for?" Abraham faltered.

"It's a nuclear power plant!" Chance replied. "It's all too easy to find something, _especially_ if you're a lawyer." He pointed out.

Streng thought over Chance's words for a minute, and then put on a big smile.

"How do you do, good sir?" He cooed. "Would you like to come in? Is there anything I can help you with?"

Cassandra looked at Chance with sheer amazement. Chance smiled broadly and chuckled to himself. "Well for starters" he began "you can answer this girl's question, _is_ this plant safe?"

"We follow the strictest of safety precautions here at Safeguard!" Streng informed them, straightening his tinted glasses. "That pit of waste you mentioned earlier is diluted with over a thousand gallons of cold water per day! If you fell in, you wouldn't be affected in the slightest!" He ran his hand through hair and put on a big smile. "I would know. The walkway caved in while I was walking yesterday, and I found myself taking a swim in it myself!"

"_Yeah, _that_ sounds safe!_" Cassie interrupted. "_By gosh Chance, maybe we _should_ sue this plant! I mean that kind of thing is just unacceptable! You can't just allow people to fall into nuclear reactors! Why we ought to…_"

"Calm down, calm down!" Streng soothed. "As manager of this place, I'm not about to sue myself! Besides, it was a freak accident! We thought that the building had been assembled under the strictest regulations, but it turns out that the architect cut a corner or two." He straightened his tie. "Besides, the only thing that happened to me was that my hair changed from black to greenish grey! And I'm certain that, under the strict hair treatment program my doctor has set out for me, it will be back to normal in no time!"

_What kind of doctor prescribes a 'hair treatment' program? I'll have to ask Dad about that…_

"So" Chancellor continued, "is the pathway fixed now?"

"Just about" Streng nodded. "We were a bit understaffed yesterday, so we've actually only just begun fixing it today."

"The more I hear about this plant, the more I find wrong with it…" Cassie whispered to Chance. She turned to face Streng. "You're Andy's boss, right? What's he like here at Safeguard?"

"Andre'…" Abraham mused. "He's an odd duck, at best. Has this strange fetish for really shiny, bright objects. He keeps a whole bunch of them in his office." He frowned. "Some of them are actually quite dangerous, weapons and such, and don't _exactly_ follow regulations. Still, no matter how hard I tried…" he shook his head "I could never get Nook to make him get rid of them."

"But didn't Nook _hate_ Mr. Ne Chrome?" Cassie asked, confused.

"With a passion" nodded Streng, bouncing even faster. "I never understood it really. She would always berate him, telling him to clean himself up, see a psychiatrist, go jump off a cliff…" he chuckled "I suppose she left him his collection so that he could retreat to it, find solace, and be somewhat refreshed when she came down on him the next day."

_Gosh… you don't see unbridled hatred like _that_ anymore these days…_ thought Chancellor.

"But other than that, I really have no complaints about the man" Streng finished. "He's a very good manager, owing to the fact that none of his employees _dare_ cross him." He chuckled. "Always comes in on time at 8:00 and always leaves at 5:00 sharp so he can get home in time to watch 'Tales of the Crypt'."

_You know… I can see Andre' _adoring _that show… If I'm not mistaken, that comes on every day at 5:30, so Andre' can't live too far away…_

"So where exactly were _you_yesterday Mr. Streng?" asked Cassie, eyeing the manager suspiciously.

"Well, after I got out of the waste pit, I was immediately showered down and sent to be de-toxed." He beamed. "The team followed our strict safety codes, as per usual, and I wasn't released until six o'clock!"

_So as far as we know, he has an alibi…_ mused Chance.

"Could we take a look around inside now?" he asked.

"Of course!" Streng smiled through clenched teeth. "Anytime! Come on in!"

-Safeguard Nuclear Plant. 5/20. 3:27 pm.

The inside of the plant was surprisingly simplistic. The large pit of nuclear waste occupied the center of the building. A small metal pathway had been constructed above this pit, and it ran the entire circumference of the building. On one side of this pathway was a small ledge about three feet of the ground, followed by a large steel wall that blocked the pit from view. On the other side were doors that led to various management offices.

"To your right, as you go down the hall" Streng motioned, "you'll see Andre's office, then Nook's, then Simpson's, and so on and so forth. My office is right near what has become the end of the hall for now, seeing as the pathway isn't completely repaired yet."

"Where can we find the witness?" Cassie asked hurriedly.

"Down at the _very_ end of the hall, most likely" Streng offered. "That's where she found the…" he closed his mouth, began muttering to himself about strict orders, and began bouncing uncontrollably on the balls of his feet.

_The broom closet!_ Chancellor remembered without aid from his chain. _That's where Tanya said the murder weapon was found!_ "Thanks, Mr. Streng" he said, and began walking briskly down the hallway.

"Don't listen to him," said a deep, massive voice from the first office on the right. "He doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Why! Ms. Scrubbs!" Streng exclaimed, bouncing in surprise, "I didn't even see you there!"

Christine Scrubbs, a three hundred pound juggernaut of a janitor, laughed a full belly laugh. "You flatter me, Hammy," she said in a warm tone. "As if anyone could not see me! You should probably get your prescription checked, Hammy, you're eyes must be going something terrible!"

"_Don't be like that!"_ cried Cassie, rearing up for another long rant. "_Don't you _dare_ be a stereotypical woman and let your figure define who you are! Beauty is like tapioca pudding! Sure, just a glance at it makes it seem as good as any other pudding, but once you dig deep into it and find out what it's really about, it's just overwhelmingly horrible, and it doesn't really matter in the slightest! Don't look at beauty as if it were tapioca pudding!_"She panted heavily for several seconds. She had never actually finished a rant before.

Chance raised his hand shyly. "Um… Cassie? I… I like tapioca pudding, actually…"

"Well, you're not a woman now, are you Chancellor?" Cassie tutted.

"_What does that have to…_ you know, never mind." Chancellor shook his head, feeling another migraine coming on. _Why? Why on _earth_ did I agree to let this girl be my assistant, even for a day?_

"You're a man?" asked Scrubbs, looking over Chancellor carefully. "I have to say son, you've really gotten the whole transvestite thing down to a science, I never would have known!" She smiled, absolutely certain she had just paid Chance a compliment.

Chancellor began to twitch uncontrollably. "I'm… not… a transvestite…" he managed. "And I like _women_ too, because I _know_ that's the next question on your mind."

"Naw" said Scrubbs. "I personally follow the 'don't ask, don't tell' policy. As far as I know, it doesn't offend anybody, so it's all good!"

_Huh_ Chancellor thought. _Something tells me this woman would be the _ultimate_ grandmother._

"Go on, Hammy" he heard Scrubbs say. "I'll make sure these kids don't cause _too_ much trouble."

Streng muttered to himself and walked down the hall to his office.

"SO!" Scrubbs yelled when Streng was out of earshot. "Christine Scrubbs, at your service! What can I do you for, kids?"

"We're here representing Mr. Ne' Chrome, and we want a basic outline of what happened!" Cassie blurted out.

"Well…" Chancellor clarified. "_I'm_ representing Mr. Ne' Chrome… she's kind of just tagging along for today." Cassie gave an over exaggerated frown, then began poking around. "Anyway" Chance continued, "if I understand correctly, you're the one who found the supposed murder weapon, correct?"

"That's right" Scrubbs nodded, smiling.

"Could you tell us what it was?" Chance asked hopefully.

Scrubbs shook her head. "I don't really know what its called" she admitted "but it was part of Ne' Chrome's 'collection', if you could call it that." She pointed at two hooks on Mr. Ne' Chrome's wall, about seven feet apart. "It usually hangs right there."

Chance whistled. "That must be one big weapon."

Scrubbs nodded sadly, growing an additional two chins every time her head tipped down. "The one thing that gives me comfort after all this is that Ms. Nook must have died quickly." She shuddered. "What a sick, twisted man."

"You suspect Mr. Ne' Chrome?" asked Chance. The cleaning woman nodded. "Any particular reason, or..?"

"Nook and he would fight all the time" Scrubbs asserted. "I heard them fighting on _that_ day too, and then, all of a sudden…" she stared out into space for a minute. "They stopped." A tear came to her eye. "If I had gone in to check on them at that moment, I might have been able to…"

"Don't think that" Chance reassured her. "We don't know whether that's when Ms. Nook died or not."

"It couldn't have been any other time," Scrubbs asserted. "Ne' Chrome left a bit after that. I thought it was odd, since it was later than he usually left."

Chancellor looked up with a start. "So then, what time did Mr. Ne' Chrome leave?" _And why do I get the feeling that catching my client in a lie this early _isn't_ a good thing?_

Scrubbs thought for a moment. "I'd say it was around… 5:30 when he left the plant that night."

"You're sure?" Chance asked.

Scrubbs nodded. "I'd bet my life on it."

Chancellor gave a long, exasperated sigh. "Thanks for your time, Ms. Scrubbs. We'll speak again tomorrow."

"You know it!" she smiled. "See you then, Chancy!"

-Chancellor's Corvette. 4:17 pm.

Chancellor pulled the car on the side of the road, in front of an enormous building. "This is your house?" He asked, impressed.

"Yup" said Cassie. "Dad makes quite a bit of money doing what he does, so we're never in need of anything."

"What does he do?" asked Chancellor, thinking of a career change.

Cassie held a finger to the side of her nose and winked. "I can't tell you, remember? It'll spoil…"

"Right, right" Chancellor nodded, "it'll spoil a future plot twist, of course."

Cassie smiled and nodded, reaching into her pocket. "By the way, Chance" she said "while I was looking around the plant, I noticed something on the ledge…" she took out her cell phone, and brought up a picture of a footprint.

"You wait to tell me now?" asked Chance, shaking his head in migraine _again_. "You know cell phone pictures aren't admissible as evidence in court?"

"Really?" she frowned. "Well, it's not exactly clear or distinct, so we probably couldn't use it to prove anything anyway."

"And it could have been made by anyone too… still, it's a good thing to keep in mind, I suppose…"

Footprint picture: A picture of a footprint on a ledge at Safeguard. Not actually admissible as evidence.

"Mhm!" Cassie nodded, getting out of the car. "Alright then, see you in court tomorrow, Chance!" she called as she ran towards the house.

"Yeah," he said absentmindedly, "see you in… _Hey! Wait a minute! You're not…_" But she was already inside. Chance shook his head, a migraine coming on _yet again_. _What have I gotten myself into?_ He asked himself. _Oh hush_ his reflection in the rearview mirror said, _try being considerate for once in your life! Something horrible has happened to her, and she wants to feel like she helping!_ He sighed. _Yeah, I suppose you're right_ he admitted. He pulled out his phone, and called the first number on speed dial.

"Writchard Detective Agency, Ricky Rich speaking" came a voice on the other end of the line.

"Ricky! Buddy!" Chance said as he pulled away from the curb. "I've got another job for you guys!"

"Hit me" Ricky called back.

"I need you to send an agent down to Safeguard Nuclear Plant. See if you can get into their files, I want everything that mentions the following people:" he paused, waiting for Ricky to grab a paper and pencil, "Andre' Ne' Chrome, Ashley Nook, and Abraham Streng" he concluded.

"You got it" Ricky nodded. "What you doing for dinner tonight, man?"

"Whatever you're doing, from the sound of it" Chance laughed. "How about we go to Fondue Stew's? My strawberry tank is _way_ too empty right now."

Ricky sighed. "Fondue _again?_ You're lucky I'm a cheese-aholic or I swear I'd disown you." The detective laughed. "Fondue Stew's at 7:00, don't you dare stand me up, missy." He hung up.

Chancellor laughed and closed his phone. _Fondue Stew's is a wonderful place…_ he thought. _All the chocolate-covered strawberries you can eat, as long as you dip them yourself…_ And with that thought to cling to, he got on the highway and drove back to the office.

Author's note corner:

Name Origins again!

Andre' Ne' Chrome: Chrome, for his love of shiny objects.

Ashley Nook: Nook, as a name, is pronounced like 'Nook and Cranny'; but by itself, it can be pronounced like 'Nuke'. Ashley from 'Ash', which is all that's left after a nuclear explosion.

Abraham Streng: Streng is the Dutch word for 'strict'. Abraham from Lincoln, who also wore a stovetop hat. Take the name together, and you can see 'abraHAM STRENG' like 'Hamstring' which is the muscle he uses when he bounces up and down on his toes.

Christine Scrubbs: Christine sounds like 'pristine', which means clean/sanitary. Scrubbs come from 'scrubbing'.

Cassandra: Chosen because it reminds me of a young, female warrior. References her feisty, go get 'em nature.

Posheton Estates: Comes from 'posh' meaning high-class or aristocratic.

Safeguard Nuclear Plant: Is this thing safe? Really? Can a nuclear plant _ever_ be 100 safe? Are you sure? Safe?

Learn Russian!

Meh, why not? Might as well, seeing as we have a Russian prosecutor.

ДО СВИДАНИЯ (pronounced 'Da Sveedanya'): Roughly means 'Good bye', 'See you later', or 'Until we meet again'.

ЗДРАВСТВЫЙТЕ (prounounced 'Zdrav stvee tye'): 'Hi'.

ТРУСЫЙ (pronounced 'Trucy'): 'Panties'. I'm dead serious. Chock one up for the Russian guy.


	3. Part II

Disclaimer: Ace Attorney is the property of Nintendo. Chancellor Moore is a fan fiction and nothing Moore. So please support the official release. Got it? Damn straight you got it.

The Giant Radioactive Turnabout

(Trial, part 1)

-District Courthouse, Defendant's lobby 3. 5/21. 9:45 am.

"How to begin… how to begin…"

These were the words Chancellor muttered to himself as he sweated over his opening statement. (By a strange coincidence, they're also the words the author muttered to himself when sweating over how to start this chapter.)

_Ladies and gentleman, when you look upon the face of the defendant, I want you to consider an age-old adage: 'Never judge a book by its cover'. … I'm sure Andre' would _love _my saying that; it would do _so_ much for his self-esteem._ He frowned and racked his brain harder. _Friends, fellows, countrymen, lend me to your ears! I come to raise Ne' Chrome, not to bury him._ He shook his head. _No… that sounds good, but I have the sneaking suspicion that it's been used somewhere before…_

"Pre-case jitters, eh Moore?" came a voice from the hallway.

Morage Thenue strode into the defendant's lobby, taking a seat next to Chance. "Whatever happened to that overconfident, cocksure attitude I've come to hate so much?"

"It all evaporated the moment I looked at my client's face" Chancellor admitted. "Granted, I'm not exactly an authority when it comes to looks, but…" he shook his head. "One look at him and the entire courtroom will assume he's guilty. It's that bad."

"Did_ you_assume he was guilty as soon as you saw him?" Queried Morage.

"Well, no…" Chance answered. "But…"

"Then what makes you think anyone else will?" Chancellor sat for a moment, pondering what Morage had just said. Morage continued, "As you go through life, Moore, you'll find that people _are_, for the most part, superficial, and act that way in their day to day lives. But in a courtroom…" he paused. "Even the lowest sort of man finds the courage to see people for who they really are." He stood up. "Except for you, of course," he added. "As soon as they see you, they'll assume you're a woman. _That_ you can't change."

"Gee... thanks." Chance said. Morage rolled his eyes and began to walk away. "No, really!" Chance called after him, causing the older man to turn. "Thank you. That helped a lot, actually… well, except for the last part."

Morage let out a low grunt. "Just don't put us to shame in there, alright?"

"ALRIGHT!" came Cassandra's voice as she kicked the doors open. "Cassie and Chrome here, ready to kick some prosecutor _butt_!"

Morage looked from the young girl to Chance, then back to Cassie. He shook his head in disbelief, muttering something along the lines of 'What is the world coming to these days', and left.

Cassie was silent for a moment, then pointed out the door and asked, "Who's the stiff?"

"My father" Chancellor said, acting offended.

"_Really?_" Cassie said worriedly. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to…"

Chance laughed, and Cassie knew right then and there he was kidding. "_Ooooh!_" she screamed. "_Why I ought to…_"

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeelp meeeeeeee" Ne' Chrome said, in a warble that was halfway between a whine and a coo. Chancellor cringed, but caught himself in time to make it unnoticeable. Ne' Chrome noticed. "You… you're scared of me, aren't you?" he said sadly and angrily. "You think I'm a horrible person, don't you?"

"No!" Chancellor reassured. "No, of course I… well, a tiny bit, yeah." He held up two fingers closely together to illustrate how small the feeling was. "But only the scared of you part; I don't think you're a horrible person, Andre'." Chancellor expected Ne' Chrome to be offended, but instead, the gaunt man chuckled.

"Well… I suppose I can't fault you for that." He leaned closer to Chance and dropped his voice down to a raspy whisper. "After all… I am a very scary person." He gave an eerie chuckle, and Chance, relieved that he no longer had to hide his reactions from his client, backed away.

Cassandra shook her head, as if disappointed. "Chancellor, Chancellor, what are you going to do when you meet the _real_ freaks of the world?"

"Run" Chance answered, ignoring the fact that the question was rhetorical.

"Funny" Cassie lashed back, not laughing. "You know, you're kind of high on the freak scale yourself, Chance."

"Which is why I don't look in mirrors" Chance shot back.

Cassie paused for a minute, nodding slightly. "Fine. Be that way." She brightened up. "So what's the plan for the trial, Chance?"

"Well, seeing as we really don't have all that much evidence to work with…" Chance began, fiddling with the autopsy report in his briefcase, "We wait until Krasivaya presents the evidence she thinks will close the case for good, and then we use it all against her!"

"What… what if that doesn't work?" Ne' Chrome asked nervously.

"Oh, it'll work" Chance reassured him. "It always works. It's the mark of a good attorney to be able to make a case out of absolutely nothing." He stopped abruptly, thinking over what he had just said. _That… probably didn't boost his confidence much…_

But surprisingly, Ne' Chrome became more relaxed. "Well then… I suppose I've nothing to worry about then, seeing as we _have_ absolutely nothing. We'll win for sure!" He smiled broadly, and then strode into the courtroom, not caring that the trial hadn't started yet.

Chance and Cassie stared after him. "Is he always…"

"Yup" Cassie nodded. "He's never been the best at logic, yeah."

Chancellor sighed. "Well that's a relief. Ignorance is bliss, after all."

The bailiff motioned for them to enter the courtroom, and the trial began.

-District Courthouse, Courtroom 5. 10:00 am.

"All rise!" yelled the bailiff. "The honorable Judge Domino presiding!"

_Domino?_ Chance thought. _But isn't the judge in this court…_He stopped as he saw Judge Scotty enter the courtroom. "Your last name is Domino, Scotty?" Chance asked. "Why have I not heard this before?"

"I tell all of our bailiffs to introduce me as Judge Scotty" Scotty explained as he sat down. "This one is brand new though, so he has an excuse to be… _ignorant_." The bailiff gave an embarrassed wave and stood in a corner.

"Come to think of it" Krasivaya said from the other side of the courtroom, "Scotty is just a nickname, isn't it? We don't know your real first name either!"

"Well, um, yes, you see…" Scotty stuttered. "I don't really… like, my first name, so… too bad."

"It's Scotland, isn't it?" asked Cassie.

Judge Scotty reeled back. "What? Of course it isn't! It's…" He gave an embarrassed smile. "Ok, yeah, it is." He looked at the young girl curiously. "And you are?"

"Cassandra" she said with a wave. "I suppose I'm this guy's assistant for now" she explained, pointing at Chance.

"Oh, well it's about time you got one of those, Chance" Scotty congratulated. "Honestly, I've been worried what would happen to you should there come a time where your own character flaws blind you from the truth!"

Chance shot Cassie a 'don't say _anything_' look. Cassie smiled, locked her mouth, and threw away the key.

"Ahem." Scotty cleared his throat. "As enlightening as this chat has been, perhaps it would be best if we moved onto the trial?"

"Whatever you say, your honor" said Krasivaya. "I'd like to make my opening statement now, if you don't mind."

Scotty nodded. "Very well, Ms. Krasivaya. You may proceed."

Tanya flicked her hair back, and began to pace around the courtroom. "Ladies and gentleman of the court, Mr. Andre' Ne' Chrome has been accused of the most heinous crime a man can commit, taking the life of another individual. Ms. Ashley Nook was a frail, defenseless woman with great ambition and an incredible will to succeed, and now she is no longer with us. Mr. Ne' Chrome is charged with taking a blade, overpowering this woman, and savagely ripping out her throat, then taking the body back to _his own_ _house_ to 'dispose of'." Tanya stopped moving for a moment. "Now, I ask this court" she pointed accusingly at Ne' Chrome. "_Is this the face of a cold, heartless killer?"_ She paused for a moment. There was silence.

"Um… well" someone in the audience ventured. "Yeah… yeah, it kind of is." Chancellor hung his head. It was going to be a long day.

Tanya smiled. "Exactly my point, good sir. But not only does Mr. Ne' Chrome have the _face_ of a killer, he has the _mentality_ of a killer and the _brutality_ of a killer, and the _reality_ is that this man is a murderer! And after all the evidence is presented, this will be an undeniable truth."

Scotty nodded. "Thank you, Ms. Krasivaya. Compelling and overly-dramatic as usual." He turned to Chance. "Well, Chancellor? What do you have to say to that?"

Chancellor laughed a nervous laugh, a hand behind his neck. _Good gravy, what _do_ I say to that?_He sighed, and looked down at his reflection in his chain.

"_Ladies and gentleman of the court!_" Chancellor yelled suddenly, causing the entire room to snap to attention. "Society today has become overly _obsessed_ with image. Frivolous questions about appearance threaten the self-esteem and self-worth of every man, woman, and child alive." He gazed around the courtroom, his eyes stopping momentarily on individuals in the court. "Is my face clear? Will I fit into my bikini from last year? Do I _look_ good enough to succeed?" He smashed his fist down onto the table. "_These are questions that nobody should ever ask themselves!_ I say to you, as an example in my own right, that appearances are not an indicator of _anything!_" He motioned towards Andre'. "Mr. Ne' Chrome _looks_ like a murderous madman? Fine. But that doesn't make him one. The evidence _looks_ like it all points to him? Fine. But that doesn't mean it does." He took a deep breath, as if to calm himself down. "Not guilty" he stated. A little boy in the audience broke into applause, and was quickly hushed by his father. _What kind of father takes his son to see a murder trial?_ Chance thought, but he nodded appreciatively all the same.

"A rant worthy of being called my own" Cassie complimented.

"Thank you, Chance. Improvised and slightly off-topic as usual… but we really didn't need to know that you wear bikinis… I'll have nightmares for weeks now" Scotty muttered. Chancellor thought about objecting, but resigned himself to simply sighing heavily and hanging his head in migraine. Scotty turned back to Tanya. "Ms. Krasivaya? Your first witness, if you please."

"Of course, your honor" she said. "The prosecution calls a familiar face, Detective Tracy Spade, to the stand."

As Spade took the stand, he looked at Chancellor curiously. "Wow" he said, looking Chance over. "You're really pretty! Can I have your number when this is over, lady?"

"DETECTIVE SPADE!" yelled Chance incredulously. "IT'S ME!"

Spade jumped. "Ack! Sorry about that, Mr. Moore." He looked away, embarrassed. "You have to understand, I come from a generation when men were men, and women were women, and nickels were actually made of nickel, not this zinc stuff they have now, so you being a guy is still kind of hard for me to grasp."

Chance looked at Spade curiously. _Wait… just how old _is_ this guy?_

"Anyway" continued Spade, getting back to the subject at hand, "if you'll still hear me out, I'd like to give the basic outline of the case for you all."

"That's what you're here for, Mr. Spade" said Krasivaya. "You may testify."

Spade cleared his throat. "Here's our interpretation of what happened that day. Mr. Ne' Chrome got into an argument with Ms Nook in his office, and in a rage, he grabbed a weapon from his collection and slashed her throat open. He put her into a HAZMAT suit from his office to prevent any more blood from leaking out, cleaned up whatever blood was spilled, hid the weapon away in a broom closet, and stuck the body in the trunk of his car. He then drove it home. He was most likely going to dispose of it later, but we, being the ultra-super police force that we are, caught up with him before he could!"

"The weapon in question, your honor, for inspection" Krasivaya presented, pulling out a seven-foot long scythe from behind the bench.

Chancellor's jaw dropped. _That thing is huge! And deadly! And so freaking awesome!_

Cassie whistled. "I want one of those," she said.

"With all the money your dad makes, you could probably afford one" Chance noted.

The blonde grinned. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Child's HAZMAT suit: Suit for handling toxic chemicals, the inside contains massive traces of Ms. Nook's blood, and the outside bears a tiny bit of splatter.

Scythe: Seven feet long, weighs roughly fifty pounds. Has a single blade, almost completely covered in the victim's blood. Andre's fingerprints located in the middle of the handle.

"As you can see," Krasivaya pointed out. "There is no question that Mr. Ne' Chrome handled this weapon."

"But there _is_ a question as to _when_ he handled this weapon, and for _what purpose_" Chancellor interjected. "Keep in mind that Mr. Ne' Chrome does _own_ that scythe, and he would have to handle it in order to mount it on his wall!"

"Duly noted" Scotty nodded. "Though, I have to admit, I would have considered that whether you had pointed it out or not. You may cross-examine now, if you like, Chance."

Chancellor nodded. "Mr. Spade, you made the claim that the victim's body was in the trunk of my client's car, yes?"

"That's right" Spade barked.

"Do you have any _proof_ of that?" Chancellor stressed.

"As a matter of fact, we do" Spade countered. "As you probably noticed, Mr. Ne' Chrome didn't exactly pick a big enough suit to cover Ms. Nook's body, so we found traces of her blood in the trunk of his car!" He held up an envelope. "A report from the forensics department, your honor."

"Accepted into evidence" Scotty nodded.

Forensics Report, Mr. Ne' Chrome's trunk: Small patch of blood found that matches Ashley Nook's blood type, as well as tiny sample of same blood on the trunk's latch.

"And **TAKE THAT**!" Spade barked. "Er… I mean, take this! Here's the footage you wanted to see yesterday. Have a look! The only thing it shows is that Mr. Ne' Chrome drove home alone that day, and that he was the only person to enter his house! Besides us, of course." He added.

Footage (main gate): Timestamp: 6:35 pm. Mr. Ne' Chrome drives his red Ferrari through the gate, and the camera catches a brief glimpse of the cab. Inside can be seen Mr. Ne' Chrome, an oddly-shaped package, and an oversized bag labeled 'Boston Delicatessen'.

Footage (Ne' Chrome's house): Timestamp: 6:41 pm. Mr. Ne' Chrome pulls into his garage and the garage door closes. Mr. Ne' Chrome can be seen briefly as he gets out of the car and takes both the large package and the bag out the cab. No one else is seen on the tape until the police arrive.

Chancellor hung his head. _He's right. No one else came to the house, so the only way the body could have been moved there… was by Mr. Ne' Chrome's _own car. "The defense concedes that the body was transported by Mr. Ne' Chrome's car" he said. "But we hold that Mr. Ne' Chrome had _no knowledge _that there was a body inside!"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"_Oh, come off it, Mr. Moore!_" Tanya yelled. "_I suppose you're going to tell me that the cadaver moved _itself_ out of the car and into the house?_"

Chancellor swallowed hard. If he lost his cool now, the situation would only get worse. "The defense has nothing to say to that effect. I will, however, continue my cross-examination, if you don't mind, Ms. Krasivaya."

"Ooh!" Tanya cooed, batting her eyelids seductively. "Are we going to act like a _big boy_ now, Mr. Moore?" She stretched for several seconds, giving a soft yawn. "I'm not sure if I like that" she flirted.

_Must… remain… focused…_ "Mr. Spade?" he got out. "Um… er… right! Uh… Why do you… um… what is the police's… _view_… of" _Damn it Krasivaya, stop stretching!_ "of… _why_… Mr. Ne' Chrome…tookthebodytohishouse?"

"Well, that's an interesting question" Spade commented. "I would think it's obvious!"

"Please just answer the question," Chance begged, forcing his eyes shut.

"Well, it was the only way he had to dispose of the body!" Spade affirmed. "Well, maybe not the _only_ way, but certainly the _easiest_ way, and the way that would ensure he wasn't caught!"

Chancellor felt a familiar tug at the back of his mind, and his eyes flew open. _I _live_ for these moments._

'**OBJECTION!**' sung in a_ very_ relieved F major.

"Actually" Chance began, "if I were a killer… which I'm not, by the way," he added, responding to Scotty's sudden look of shock. "But if I _were_ a killer, I would want to get rid of the evidence of my deed as quickly as possible!"

"_I would dump the body into the nuclear waste pit below my very feet!"_

Cut to a murmur-murmur scene.

"Think about it!" said Chance. "Doesn't it seem _odd_ that Mr. Ne' Chrome would not take advantage of the pathway being broken to quickly remove himself from suspicion? After all, work on the pathway didn't begin until _yesterday!_ He wouldn't have been seen by anyone!"

"_By taking the body home with him, Mr. Ne' Chrome proves himself unaware of it's presence!"_

He looked over at Tanya, waiting to see how she would respond. His face fell. She was smiling. "Mr. Moore, I have to admit, that _does_ make a lot of sense."

He perked up. "It does, doesn't it? Not guilty, right?"

She shook her head. "Wrong. For you see, Mr. Ne' Chrome had a _motive_ for bringing the body home with him, regardless of whether it was the smart thing to do." She took a paper from her briefcase, flourishing it for the entire courtroom. "You see, Mr. Moore, it turns out that Andre' Ne' Chrome… _is a Necromancer!_"

"WHOA!" yelled Cassie, turning to Andre'. "You're a servant of the Lich King? What the heck man, you're supposed to tell me these things!" She slapped him on the arm, causing him to cringe slightly. "I've always wanted to be a banshee, you know! I've always wanted to be able to yell and cause people to cower in fear, to wail and cause people to cringe in pain, to simply _speak_ and cause any man to freeze up in terror!"

"Sounds pretty accurate to me," Chance muttered.

"Hey! It is not! _SCOTTYYYYYYYYYY!" _she wailed, causing the courtroom's inhabitants to cringe in pain. "Tell him not to say stuff like that!"

"Yes, you're quite right, miss," said Scotty, tapping his gavel lightly on the desk. "The defense will refrain from personal, if not accurate, attacks on… erm… itself." He turned to Tanya. "And I think, Ms. Krasivaya, if you had said _necrophiliac_, then this confusion could have been avoided."

"Oh, is that the word?" Tanya asked, blushing out of embarrassment. "I'm sorry…"

"Not at all" pardoned Scotty. "The report is accepted into evidence."

Andre's Psychiatry Report:

Safeguard Nuclear

Date: 4/18.

Time: 4:00 pm.

Patient: Ne' Chrome, Andre'

Examining Doctor: Friday, Jaden.

Patient is prone to violent outbursts under pressure, and has also been diagnosed with necrophilia. Sedatives prescribed, and further psychiatric counseling is strongly suggested.

"We put the 'clear' in nuclear"

_Damn it!_ thought Chance. _I've pressed Spade on nearly everything, and it's all backed up with non-contradictory evidence! Don't tell me the police department… actually did a thorough job?_

"As you can see" Krasivaya showed. "This report even accounts for Ne' Chrome's… 'Less than professional' response to criticism." She held both hands up in a classic Edgeworth pose. "What more is required, your honor? I think the proof is sufficient."

'**Hold it!'**yelled Chance. "What about the next witness? Isn't Christine Scrubbs going to testify?"

"I told you yesterday, Mr. Moore" Krasivaya grinned. "She _says _she saw something, but it's nothing different than what we already know. As far as I'm concerned, calling Ms. Scrubbs as a witness would be a monumental waste of time."

"Then _I'll_ call her as a witness, if you won't!" Chance shot back. "I'm not going to let this slide so easily!"

"Your witness then, Mr. Moore" she said seductively. "Detective Spade!" she ordered, "you're done here."

Spade gave a salute. "Yes Ma'am! I'll have the next witness come right up!"

"Not so fast, Detective" said Scotty. "My RLS is acting up, so I'm going to have to call a twenty minute break to stretch my legs." He banged his gavel. "Court is now in recess!"

-District Courthouse, Defendant's Lobby 3. 11:02 am.

"Oh wonderful, simply _wonderful!_" Andre' cheered as the three waited in the defense's lobby.

"Andre'… you nearly got a guilty verdict in there" Cassie pointed out. "How can you be so happy?"

"It's like Mr. Moore said, isn't it?" the creepy man answered ignorantly. "We've got absolutely nothing, _nothing,_ so I'm _guaranteed_ to be found innocent! Oh wonderful, _wonderful!_"

Cassie whispered to Chance. "Well, at least you've got his hopes up… that's half the battle right there."

"Tell me about it" said Chance. "Though it's not just him, for some reason most of my clients have this unwarranted faith that they'll be found innocent. Perhaps I'm a very reassuring person?"

"Perhaps…" Cassie muttered. "But then… wouldn't I feel better about the trial too?"

Chance looked at her for a moment hesitantly, and then gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Hey… cheer up." She sniffed, and Chance noticed tears falling down her face. "Oh, come on… don't do this to me…" He wiped away a tear. "Have a little faith, ok? I'm sure that Ms. Scrubbs will say _something_ that turns this whole thing around!"

Cassie looked up at him. "You… you really think so?"

Chance nodded. "This is nothing new" he assured her. "In cases where someone is innocent, all it takes is the smallest loose string to unravel a tapestry of lies. Besides, there must be a reason Krasivaya doesn't want it on the record. If there's even _one_ inconsistency in the whole thing, I'll find it. You have my word."

"_And if _he_ can't save the day, then _I_ will!_" came a heroic voice from outside. The doors flew open, and in bounced a private detective of Hispanic descent. "Ricardo Writchard reporting Ma'am!" He sprung to a mock salute.

"Ricky!" Chance said, grasping the detective's hand and shaking it furiously. "It's about time you showed up! Did you find anything?"

"Hard luck on the assignment, I'm afraid" the man responded, absentmindedly playing with a curl of his red hair, "the police department has locked off all company records for the time being; a direct violation of the Freedom of Information Act, by the way… unfortunately, when I told them that, they told me that my assignment only entitled me to information from the day of the crime, and they gave me these." He held up a file marked 'Safeguard: 5/20'. "I've already sorted through and highlighted the papers that concern the people you mentioned… and I'm sorry to say, it ain't much."

Safeguard: 5/20, page 1:

From the desk of Ashley Nook.

Memo: To whom it may concern,

Date for Friday meeting TBA.

Safeguard: 5/20, page 2:

Report from Detoxification Department.

Mr. Streng taken in to DETOX after falling into waste pit. Quickly washed down and detoxified, no adverse side effects seen except slight hair discoloration. Released at 6:00 pm.

Safeguard: 5/20, page 3:

From the desk of Abraham Streng

Memo: Staff,

Do not forget! Friday, after work, attend this year's company picnic! Keep in mind that you still represent our company, so our strict yet fair guidelines about professional behavior still apply. Other than that, have a blast!

"Like I said" Ricky iterated. "Not exactly much to work with, is it?"

"We'll figure something out, rest assured buddy." Chance clapped the P.I. on the back. "Thanks man".

"Yeah!" Cassandra cheered. "Thanks Mr… erm…"

"Please, just call me Ricky" Writchard insisted. "I'm barely an adult as it is, and I hang out with _this_ guy so…"

Cassie laughed. "I can only imagine." She smiled.

"Well!" Ricky said abruptly. "I need to be getting back to the office; the employees will mutiny if they find out I'm giving away services for free again." He winked. "Later!" He bounded out of the room in an effort to look heroic. It was actually quite good.

Cassandra looked after him for a minute. "So… he's your age, or?"

"Three years younger, actually" Chance corrected. "He and I go _way _back; heck, I'm pretty sure he was waiting at my hospital bed when I woke up…"

-Flashback-

An eleven-year-old boy with curly, red hair walks into Chancellor's hospital room.

'Hi, I'm Ricky, and you don't know me yet, but I'm going to be your friend from now on!"

-End Flashback-

Chancellor laughed. "He's a great guy; kind of like the little brother I never had."

Cassie shook her head. "Well isn't that something?" she said in a soft voice.

Chancellor nodded. "Yes ma'am, I believe it…"

"You've actually _proven_ that no one related to you can be normal," Cassie laughed.

District Courthouse, Courtroom 5. 11:19 am.

BANG, BANG, BANG! Rang Scotty's gavel.

"Thanks everyone." said Scotty. "You can't _imagine _the torment I go through not being able to move my legs." He cleared his throat. "The trial of Mr. Andre' Ne' Chrome will now come to order! Ms. Scrubbs, if you would approach the stand."

Christine Scrubbs struggled to climb the two steps leading up to the stand, and finally sat down with a sigh of relief.

"Um… Ms. Scrubbs?" said Scotty. "The stand is… up another step…"

"Oh don't you worry about me, dear" Scrubbs insisted. "I'll be just as able to testify here as I am…" she stopped, looking at Chancellor with sudden concern. "Chancy!" she called out. "You look positively famished, dear! Don't tell me you've been skipping breakfast now." Chance began to speak, but Scrubbs cut him off. "Ah! Don't say anything. I've got just what you need." She reached into her uniform's pocket and tossed a box to Chancellor. "There you are, honey, three absolutely _delectable_ chocolate-covered strawberries. Don't eat them all at one time now, honey!"

Chance was struck silent for a minute. "Ms. Scrubbs, will you marry me?" He heard himself say.

"Oh, hush you sweet-talker you" the janitor laughed.

"AHEM." Tanya tapped her foot impatiently on the floor.

"OH! Goodness, I'm sorry, did you want some too? Here you are then" Scrubbs apologized, tossing another box to the prosecutor's bench. "Always carry an extra, just in case."

"Oh? OH! Well…" Tanya blushed. "Thank you… but that's not _exactly_ what I had in…"

"Ah! Don't say anything." Scrubbs interrupted. "I've got just what you need." She straightened up, looking directly at Judge Scotty. "The name is Christine Scrubbs, honey, and I'm a janitor at Safeguard Nuclear Power."

Tanya was silent for a minute. "Thank you, Ms. Scrubbs. Perhaps you could…?"

"Ah!" Scrubbs interrupted. "Don't you worry about a thing, honey, I've got it covered." She cleared her throat and began to testify.

"The incident I'm here to testify about occurred at around 5:00 or so. I was cleaning out Mr. Simpson's office when I heard these terribly loud shouts coming from Mr. Ne' Chrome's office! Now, I'm no busybody, so I wasn't straining to hear what they were saying, but I _did_ notice when, all of a sudden, the arguing just… stopped." She paused for a moment, wiping away a tear from her eye. "That was around… 5:10 or so, and Mr. Ne' Chrome left the building at 5:30."

"Uncanny" Scotty said. "How on earth do you _do_ that? Does it work for everyone? Can you guess what _I_ need right now?" The testimony had, quite obviously, flew right over Scotty's head.

"Honey, one look at you just _screams_ 'RLS medication'."

"How did you…?" stuttered Tanya.

"When did you…?" stuttered Chance.

"WHAT?" yelled Scotty. "You mean to tell me they have _medicine_ for Restless Legs Syndrome?"

"Boy, don't you watch any TV?" Scrubbs shook her head. "Here, I'll tell you what I'll do. Next time I go to the doctor's office, I'll talk with him and see if I can get you some samples, alright honey?"

"_Thank you_Ms. Scrubbs!" Scotty beamed. "You may testify now."

Silence.

"_Scottyyyy_" Cassie whispered. "_We're on the cross-examination stage now._"

"Oh… really?" Scotty asked, flushing with embarrassment. "Thank you, Cassie. Chance! Go on then. You may cross-examine."

"Although seeing as it's the _defense's_ witness, it's actually a _direct_ examination" Tanya pointed out. Ladies and gentlemen, the educational requirement of this chapter has been fulfilled.

Chance gave a slight nod, and began. "Ms. Scrubbs, how sure are you about the times you mentioned in your testimony?"

"Sure as can be, honey" Scrubbs answered. "Mr. Simpson has this gigantic clock on his wall, so I couldn't _miss_ the time."

"Thank you" said Chance. "You mentioned that you weren't trying to hear what they were saying… nevertheless, _did_ you hear what they were saying?"

"Only bits and pieces here and there," Scrubbs recalled. "Mostly things like 'oh yeah?' and 'I can't believe you!'. You know, generic random argument phrases."

"Very well then. Ms. Scrubbs, when you saw Mr. Ne' Chrome leave, was he acting nervous or jumpy at all?"

"When I saw Mr. Ne' Chrome leave…?" Scrubbs muttered. "I don't think I ever said anything about seeing Mr. Ne' Chrome leave, Chancy!"

"But you stated with certainty at what time he left the building!"

"Oh _that_" Scrubbs dismissed. "Mr. Ne' Chrome's car makes a pretty distinct noise when it's fired up, and I saw the car leave the lot through a window by the front door."

"But!" Chance began to object. "A car and an individual are not the same thing!"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Mr. Moore, I believe it has been _quite_sufficiently proven that Mr. Ne' Chrome was the driver of the vehicle." Tanya batted her eyelids. "But _nice try_, though" she said seductively.

Chancellor shivered for a minute, but forced himself to remain under control. "So, allow me to clarify, Ms Scrubbs" he continued, "you never actually saw Mr. Ne' Chrome after the arguing stopped?"

"That's right, honey. In fact, up until I finally left the office at around 5:20, I didn't see or hear anyone!"

'**OBJECTION!**' sung in… oh, just sung.

"Ms. Scrubbs, I'm sorry to say this… but that directly contradicts this piece of evidence!" He held up the autopsy report.

"Um… Chance?" asked Scotty. "How is that piece of evidence and this testimony _at all_ related?"

"Well you see, this was found in… oh, wait…" Chance quickly set the autopsy report back down. "Sorry, wrong evidence! The testimony actually contradicts _this!_" He held up the scythe.

"How… on earth…" Tanya wondered. "Can you mix up two things as different as a piece of paper and a _giant metal scythe?_"

"Oh c'mon, you know you love it" Chance winked.

"That may be true, Mr. Moore, but I still don't see…"

"You wouldn't understand, my dear. You're not smart enough."

"_The contradiction, Chance?_" Scotty pressed.

"Right! The contradiction! It's with what Ms. Scrubbs said just now, that she didn't see anybody!" He pulled out a floor plan of the plant. "Look at this diagram. Ms. Scrubbs claims she was _here_, in Mr. Simpson's office. The scythe was found _here_, in the broom closet, and the argument took place _here_, in Mr. Ne' Chrome's office!" He waited for everyone to catch up. "Now, the prosecution claims that Ms. Nook was killed in Mr. Ne' Chrome's office, spur of the moment, with said scythe. The contradiction lies in the fact that _this question_ has NO ANSWER!"

"_How did Mr. Ne' Chrome move the scythe from his office to the broom closet without Ms. Scrubbs seeing him?_"

Chancellor heard a small grunt emanate from the prosecutor's bench. _Perfect._

"Well, you see…" Krasivaya explained. "The plant's walkway is a circle! Mr. Ne' Chrome didn't _have_to walk by Ms. Scrubbs in order to get to the broom closet!"

'**OBJECTION!**'

"How soon they forget" Chance smiled, shaking his head. "The walkway was out that day, remember? The broom closet was inaccessible if approached from the other side of the plant!"

"Yes… that's true…" Tanya admitted. "Ms. Scrubbs!" she ordered. "Do you have an explanation for this?"

"Well…" Scrubbs pondered. "I was cleaning Mr. Simpson's desk out when the arguing stopped and that faces the door… maybe Mr. Ne' Chrome crawled by with the scythe on his hands and feet?" she suggested. "His desk is pretty big after all."

"Then where would he hold the scythe?" Chancellor countered. "In his teeth? And what kind of man would crawl on his hands and knees to hide a scythe when there's a _dead body_ in the middle of his office?"

"Well…" whispered Cassie. "Actually, that suits Andy to a tee."

"Why am I not surprised?" Chance whispered back.

"Well gosh, I don't know!" Scrubbs conceded. "I just know what I saw and heard that day. Forgive me if I didn't see everything!"

"The prosecution holds that Ms. Scrubbs simply _missed_ Mr. Ne' Chrome as he went to hide the scythe."

'**OBJECTION!**'

"That scythe is seven feet long!" Chance countered. "Ms. Scrubbs' vision is not in question here, and I highly doubt that _anyone_, even someone heavily distracted, could miss seeing a man run though a hallway with a scythe!"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"I highly doubt that _anyone_, even someone heavily ignorant, could miss noticing a dead body in his car and his house." Tanya shot back.

Chance stepped back, as if the blow had been physical, not verbal. "Duly noted" he admitted.

"That's _my _line" Scotty objected, tapping his gavel. "And yes, it is, Ms. Krasivaya. Does that end your examination, Mr. Moore?"

"The examination doesn't end until the doctor finds something wrong" Chance quoted his father. "Otherwise, the examiner doesn't get _paid_." He turned to the witness. "Ms. Scrubbs, you stated that you left the office at 5:20? Mr. Ne' Chrome didn't leave until 5:30, so perhaps you can testify in more detail about what happened during those ten minutes?"

"Gladly, Chancy!" Scrubbs smiled. "What do you want me to focus on?"

"Anything and everything" Chance instructed. "Spare no detail."

"Alright then honey, I'll try to remember…"

"Well, at 5:20, I finally finished wiping down Mr. Simpson's big ol' desk. I was moving on to the next room when I noticed I needed to change brooms, so I went to the broom closet. That's when I found the scythe, all covered and dripping with blood. Well, I was in a state of near-death shock. I ran out of there as fast as I could to tell someone. Unfortunately, I can't run very far… or very fast. I was lucky to run into Hammy almost as soon as I left."

"So that, _without question_, places the murder between 5:00 and 5:20." Tanya smiled. "Congratulations, Mr…" she began to taunt, but she stopped. Chance's eyes had flown open, and were now as wide as saucers.

"Ms. Scrubbs…" said Chance, processing what he had just heard. "When you say you ran into 'Hammy', you're referring to the manager of the plant, Mr. Abraham Streng?"

"Yes sir!" Scrubbs nodded. "Hammy handled everything! I was amazed to see how well he could work under pressure!"

'**OBJECTION!**'

"Ms. Scrubbs, if you are indeed telling the truth…"

"Then you've just cast an _incredible_amount of suspicion on Mr. Streng!"

"Whaaaaaaaat?" Scrubbs cried out, shocked. "Hammy, a murderer? Never!"

"But look at this!" Chance demonstrated, holding up page two of the Safeguard file. This clearly states that Mr. Streng was not released from DETOX until 6:00 pm! Yet, from your testimony, Mr. Streng was out walking around the plant at least _half an hour_ before that!" He slammed his desk for emphasis. "Why would the department lie about when they released him? Either someone in DETOX is trying to give themselves an alibi…"

"_or Mr. Streng directed them to lie to give _himself_ an alibi!_"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"_You put too much faith in that document, Mr. Moore!_" Tanya protested. _"The number five is _right next_ to the number six on a keyboard, it could easily be a typo!_"

'**OBJECTION!**'

"But Mr. Streng _himself_ has lied to this effect as well!"

-Flashback-

_Well, after I got out of the waste pit, I was immediately showered down and sent to be de-toxed." He beamed. "The team followed our strict safety codes, as per usual, and I wasn't released until six o'clock!"_

-End Flashback-

"_Mr. Streng is clearly trying to cover his whereabouts for the time of the murder!_" Chancellor asserted. "And as long as there is reason to suspect another person of this crime, Mr. Ne' Chrome can not be convicted!"

Scotty nodded in agreement. "You're absolutely right, Chance. As long as there is a possibility that Mr. Ne' Chrome is innocent, I can not pass a verdict." He checked his watch. "Court will adjourn for today, and tomorrow, the prosecution will call Mr. Abraham Streng has its first witness! Is that clear, Ms. Krasivaya?"

"Crystal, your honor" Tanya nodded.

"Is _that_your name?" Scotty asked curiously. "I have to say, it is kind of fitting…"

"No, your honor, I merely made a poor attempt to use an English idiom. I'm sorry if there was a misunderstanding."

_There wasn't so much a problem with the idiom as with the idiot the idiom was intended for_ Chancellor thought to himself.

"Ahem! Like I said!" Scotty iterated. "Court is adjourned!"

BANG!

-District Courthouse, Defendant's Lobby 3. 12:30 pm.

"Alright!" Cassie yelled, bursting through the doors. "A one day extension! And all because of the tiniest little flaw, the smallest little contradiction, the slightest possibility that someone else could commit the crime! And that Mr. Streng seemed like such a _nice_ person, too, aside from being so 'strict' with everything! It just goes to show you, you really _can't_ judge a book by its cover, can you? I mean look at Andy! Look at you, Chance! Look at me!"

"What is there about _you_ that we couldn't tell just by looking at you?" Chance asked.

"That I'm a mature and emotionally secure adult!" Cassandra asserted.

Chance would have said something, but he saw Krasivaya pass by the door. He ran after her, leaving Cassie with Andre. "Hey! Tanya! Wait up!"

The prosecutor turned around. "Ah, Mr. Moore…"

"Chance" Chancellor insisted.

"Right… Chance. What do you want?"

"Well…" _Probably best to start professionally…_ "It's about Safeguard's records… I need to get in and see them."

"Then why don't you?" Tanya asked. "After all, the Freedom of Information act…"

"We've tried that," explained Chance, "the police only allowed us to see the files from the day of the crime."

"Is that so?" Tanya queried. "I'll need to speak to the person in charge of that then…" She smiled. "I'll tell you what. Even though I really shouldn't, I'll have someone gather up their records and drop them by your office tonight. Would you like that?"

"Yes… well, no, actually." Chancellor corrected, a hand placed behind his head.

Tanya looked at him curiously. "No? But isn't that pretty much doing what you asked?"

"Well yes… but…" He sighed. "I don't know… I was kind of hoping you could… bring the files with you… to dinner, or something like that?"

Tanya smiled and turned rose. "Was that, by Chance, what I think it was?"

"It… it might've been" Chancellor nodded. "What do you say?"

"Well…" Tanya rolled her eyes up, striking an over-exaggerated thinking pose. "I don't know…"

Chancellor smiled. "I won't take no for an answer" he said with mock bravado. "Either bring the files with you to dinner or _don't bring them at all!_"

Tanya looked at Chance for a moment. "You realize… if I actually follow that… you're refusing to accept help unless you get what you want?"

Chance thought over his words for a moment. "Well… yes!" He asserted. "That's _exactly_ what I'm saying! Pretty persuasive, huh?"

Tanya shook her head, smiling. "Only you Chancellor…" she looked up at him with a pure, innocent face. "All right. It could be fun."

"Ha! Great!" Chance ruffled his hair. "I know this great little place called 'Fondue Stew's… they serve the _greatest_ chocolate strawberries you will _ever_ have in your _life!_"

"Better than the ones in Russia?" Tanya asked,

Chance's face fell slightly. "Well… gosh, I didn't even know they _made_ chocolate-covered strawberries in Russia!" he laughed.

"I'll have to bring you one sometime" she offered. "See you at… 7:00?"

"Seven sounds splendid" Chancellor quipped. "DAUSVAYDOWNYEH!" Chance called as he ran out to the parking lot.

Tanya cringed. _Well… at least he's trying._ Cassie walked over to Tanya, shaking her head. "What can I say Tanya? You're a very brave woman."

Tanya laughed. "Take in the moment, Cassie. This is the closest you'll ever see me get to dating a woman."

"To the utter disappointment of many fans" Cassie replied with a slight chuckle. "Da Sveedanya" she pronounced correctly as she ran after Chance.

Author's Note Corner:

Name Origins… again.

Andre' Ne' Chrome: Contains 'Necro' meaning dead, and "Ne' Chrome, Andre'" is close to "Necromancer".

Jaden Friday (yup, even him): A play on the word 'schadenfreude', a psychological condition.

Scotland Domino: 'Scotty Domino' because it sounds like 'Scotty doesn't know', Domino because he loves pizza; Scotland as a reference to Scotland Yard and because it's rumored (rumored, mind you) that he doesn't wear anything under his robes.

Questions you've never thought of asking… answered anyway.

Today's Character: Chancellor Moore

What is Chancellor's middle name? : Oslo, like the town where they give out Nobel Prizes.

Why Oslo? : Because I said so.

No seriously, why Oslo? : I really don't know. I suppose because he works to keep the peace, and because he's a prize-winning attorney? Seriously, no real reason, just because I said so.

Favorite song? : Despite liking mostly pop, punk, and classic rock, his favorite song is Beethoven's Choral Fantasy. Don't ask why, even he doesn't know.

Why? : (Stares at nonexistent question asker).

Favorite song that I may have heard of? : Probably 'Touchdown, Turnaround' by Hellogoodbye. It goes along with the general love of turnabouts.

Learn Russian!

ШОКОЛАД (pronounced 'shock-o-lahd'): chocolate (n.)

ШОКОЛАДНЫЙ (pronounced 'shock-o-lahd-nee'): chocolate (adj.)

КЛУБНИКА (pronounced 'kloob-nee-ka'): strawberry (n.)

ВАНИЛЬ (pronounced 'va-neel'): vanilla (n.)

General Pronunciation: In Russian, the letter 'B' is pronounced like our letter 'V'.

The symbol 'З' is pronounced like our letter 'Z'.


	4. Part III

Disclaimer: Do you like waffles

Disclaimer: Do you like waffles? _Yeah we like waffles. _ Do you like pancakes? _Yeah we like pancakes?_ Do you own Nintendo? _Heck no, we don't. _Doo doo doo doo; can't wait to get a mouthful! _WAFFLES! WAFFLES!! WAFFLES!! _Doo doo doo doo; can't wait to get a mouthful!

The Giant, Radioactive Turnabout

(Investigation, day 2)

-Boston Detention Center. 5/21. 2:00 pm.

"_AndyAndyAndyAndyAndyAndyAndy guess what?_" Cassandra yelled as she burst into the detention center's visiting room.

"…" was the man's reply.

"Fine, **be** that way!" said Cassie. "I'll just do it _again!_"

Ne' Chrome's eyes widened. "No, really, that's o…" but she was already gone.

-Boston Detention Center. 5/21. 2:01 pm.

"_AndyAndyAndyAndyAndyAndyAndy guess what?_" Cassandra yelled as she burst into the detention center's visiting room.

"…What?" Andre' asked weakly.

"Better" said Cassie; satisfied. "And now I can tell you what happened! Chancellor _actually_ did something nice for you!"

"…That's not…_completely _out of character for him… is it?" Andre' asked; confused.

"Well, no, not completely," Cassie admitted. "But this time, he's gone _beyond_ the call of duty. He's done something so incredibly humanitarian, so outrageously benevolent, so amaxingly selfless that it calls to question whether he's _actually a human being!_"

"Tell me…Mr. Moore…" Andre' asked as Chance walked into the room. "What did you do?"

Chancellor said nothing, but simply slid a small book under the glass to Andre'. Ne' Chrome picked it up and read the title. 'Tales from the Crypt: The Graphic Novel'. "I also sent in your picture," Chancellor told Andre', "for use as a model in the next edition."

Ne' Chrome's eyes quickly welled with tears, and he began to heave heavily. "This… is… the nicest… thing… anyone…" His voice caught in his throat, and he waved his hand, motioning for Cassie and Chance to leave him alone to work his joy out.

Cassie looked at Chance with the greatest sense of admiration she had ever felt for him. Chance smiled internally. _Just as I thought. Fanatic._

"You must really like that show, Mr. Ne' Chrome" said Chance.

"Oh…yes…" Andre' said between sobs. "Whenever I watch it… it just gives me this warm, fuzzy feeling inside…"

"You wouldn't miss it for the world, would you?"

"No" Andre' gasped. "For nothing… I wouldn't miss that show for anything…"

"Really now?" asked Chancellor, feigning surprise. Is that why you always make sure you leave work at 5:00?"

"That's right" Andre' nodded, his eyes still teary. "I leave at 5:00 every day so I can get home at 5:30 to watch it."

"Then why didn't you do that on the day of the crime?"

Andre' gave a sudden gulp, and his eyes widened quickly. "I… I told you… I left the plant at 5:00…"

"Yet Ms. Scrubbs claims you left at 5:30."

Ne' Chrome' avoided Chance's eyes and again gulped heavily. "Well… she must be… mistaken," he warbled.

"Alright then" Chancellor conceded, rising from his seat an inch, "let's say, for a minute, that I _believed_ that you left at 5:00 like you say. You still didn't drive straight home."

"But… I…"

"This video footage proves it!" Chancellor told him, grasping the edge of the window with his hands. "The timestamp on the tape shows that you didn't arrive at Posheton Estates until 6:35, more than _an hour_ after your beloved show begins. Care to explain?"

"Well… you see…" Andre began. He looked furtively over at Cassie, but she shook her head. There was no way out.

"Maybe I can piece together what you were doing" Chance said after seeing that Andre wasn't going to try and answer. "In the video footage, we catch a brief glimpse of the inside of your car. You can see a package in there, as well as an enormous bag from a restaurant that looks too big for even _me_ to finish all by myself." Chance leaned towards the glass, relishing the fact that _he_ was doing the scaring for a change. "You were expecting someone, weren't you?" he whispered.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"…Unh!" Andre grunted after a long silence. (Unlock complete).

_Nailed it,_ Chance thought with satisfaction, clenching his fist in triumph.

"You got me, Mr. Moore" Andre chuckled sadly. "You see… Scotty doesn't know that Fiona and me…"

"Fiona?" asked Cassie. "Who do we know named Fiona?"

"Oh…" Ne Chrome explained sadly. "That… that was my name for Ashley…"

There was a short silence. Chance gulped. He hadn't expected this. "So…" he ventured on, "you and Ms. Nook… were…"

"Yes" Ne' Chrome nodded solemnly. "We were… in love… I suppose you could say that."

Cassie was, amazingly, struck silent as well. "Why… why did you call her Fiona?" she finally managed.

"Well… you see, I've always been a bit… dirty, unattractive, yet she still…" he gave another heave, this time out of sadness. "She still found room to love me anyway… She would call me her Shrek, and so I would call her my Fiona…"

"She was the person you were expecting, then?" Chance asked.

Andre nodded sadly. "Yes…"

"Andy! Why did you hide that from us?" Cassie asked. "Do you know how much that does for your defense if you were _expecting_ someone to come that night? _The victim_ no less! Why we could have gotten you acquitted quicker than a Chop Wizard makes salad! Faster than a racing car on the German Audubon drive by Mario Andretti! More rapidly than a…"

"There are… regulations…" Andre explained, not allowing Cassie to finish. "At Safeguard, there's a strict policy against manager-employee relationships… If anyone were to find out… even now… we both… well" he chuckled slightly at his error "_I_ could be fired without notice." He looked up at Chancellor imploringly. "As innocent as this makes me seem… would you mind… not bringing it up?" He glanced away. "I'd much rather… go to jail… than break my promise to her…never to tell…"

Chancellor nodded solemnly. "I understand, Mr. Ne Chrome. I won't say a word of this to anyone."

Ne Chrome smiled sadly. "Thank you… friend…" he warbled.

Chancellor nodded and left, congratulating himself on keeping under control for the entire conversation.

-Safeguard Nuclear Plant. 5/21. 2:45 pm.

"NO, NO, NO!" yelled Abraham Streng, bouncing up and down furiously as Chance and Cassie walked towards the plant. "Absolutely, under _no circumstances_ am I letting you in today! Did you _honestly_ think you could just walk right up here, _after accusing me of murder in front of hundreds of people, _and expect to be let in? NO! Even if you _hadn't_ accused me, I _still _wouldn't let you in, so TAKE A HIKE!"

"First of all" Chancellor retaliated, pointing a finger accusingly. "I only said that you lied about where you were on the day of the crime, _not_ that you were the murderer, even if it _does_ seem likely at the moment. _Second_ of all, you don't have a choice, you _have_ to let us in."

"What on earth makes you think I'd go back on my word, not to mention my newfound _strict_ hatred of lawyers, and let you in?" Streng challenged in an'oh yeah?' tone.

Chance gave a short, angry chuckle and began to explain. "Yesterday, Mr. Streng, you said this…"

-Flashback-

_"Could we take a look around inside now?" Chancellor asked._

_"Of course!" Streng smiled through clenched teeth. "Anytime! Come on in!"_

_­_-End Flashback-

"You may not know it," Chancellor continued, "but that constituted a _verbal contract_. You said yesterday that we could look around inside 'anytime'. If you refuse to let us in today, we have grounds to sue you for contract violation and fraud, and I'm sure you don't want that." He looked at Streng strictly… er, sternly.

Streng held his ground for a minute, and then slumped over. "Fine. I'll let you in. But I _refuse_ to answer any questions you may ask!"

"Which way is it to the little girls room?" Cassie asked.

"Third door on your le-… DAMN IT!"

-Safeguard Nuclear, DETOX department. 3:00 pm.

Cassie got to the door first. True to form, she burst right through, raring to go. Chancellor, following a few steps behind, glanced at the door. He gasped as he saw a sign:

_In case of non-emergency, do not open without knocking._

"HURRY! HURRY!"

Four sets of hands covered with HAZMAT suits quickly grabbed Cassie. Despite her long, winding protests, they quickly shoved her into a 'power shower' and pulled the lever. Hot water was blasted from all four walls, and gallons of said hot water splashed down from above. When it was finally over, Cassie stepped from the shower, right eye twitching like a madman, and let out a small whine.

"Quick, get those clothes off!" yelled one of them.

"_DO IT AND YOU _DIE_ PERVERT!" _Cassie screamed, violently lurching herself away from the workers.

"Ahem." Chancellor cleared his throat. "There's… no need for that, guys, she's with me… and she's not nuclear in the slightest."

"Oh, seriously?" said the man at the shower controls. "Gosh, I'm sorry Ma'… am?" He stopped, looking over Chancellor for a minute. He let out a squeaky laugh, and then whipped back his hood, revealing a set of green Liberty Spikes, a chain, and a dog collar with spikes on it. "Hey guys! Look! It's seriously that lawyer dude I was telling you about!"

_Good Gravy… why?_

"Yup!" Liam Sirius said after inspecting Chancellor closely. "Seriously, it's him! Chancellor Moore, the modern day Mrs. Doubtfire!"

"Are you serious, Sirius? _That's_ a guy? He looks like a hot girl to me!" exclaimed a random, unnamed DETOX employee.

"Yup, seriously!" Liam nodded. "Go on Mr. Moore! Seriously, show them!"

"I'd rather not" Chancellor replied. "Indecent exposure isn't my thing."

"Oh, c'mon, seriously. You think I meant that? Seriously, just lift up your shirt and show them that you seriously don't have any…"

"NO!" cried Chancellor. "I'm not doing _anything_ along those lines! Isn't my voice enough?"

"Not really" said random DETOX guy. "I've met women with deeper voices than you… heck, I think _Patrick Stump_ has a deeper voice than you."

'**OBJE**- "Wait, his _older_ voice, or his more recent one?"

"The old one."

'**OBJECTION!**' "_OK, That's just going too far!"_

Liam laughed. "See? I seriously told you guys! Chancellor Moore, seriously the only attorney in that world that sings 'objection!'"

There were murmurs of agreement and contentment from the DETOX employees, and they gradually went back to work one by one. "SO!" Liam said, turning back to face the attorney. "What can I do you for, Mr. Moore?"

"First of all, why are you here? Last time I saw you…"

"Yeah, well, the whole 'murder on the turnpike' thing seriously ruined the job for me." He frowned, but his face quickly reverted to a smile. "So I applied here, and they let me work the power shower!"

"That's all you do?"

"Seriously."

"Um…" Cassie ventured. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news… but you _do_ know that a murder happened here two days ago, right?"

Sirius' eyes bulged out. "WHAT? Seriously? _Where?"_

"Well, not _here_ per se" Chancellor comforted. "The victim, Ms. Nook, was found in Mr. Ne' Chrome's house…"

"But they think the murder occurred here, remember Chance?" said Cassie.

Sirius went pale, and sat down. "Gosh…" he said, wiping his glasses free of sweat. "Everywhere I go… someone dies… seriously…"

"I'm sure it's just a coincidence!" Chance assured. "And even if it's not, I still need your help, so snap out of the self-pity thing, ok?"

"Ok" said Sirius, and he snapped out of the self-pity thing.

Chancellor blinked. _Wow… that was fast._

"So, Liam!" began Cassie.

"Ahpupup!" said Liam, holding up a hand. "Seriously! That's 'Mr. Sirius' to you, young lady."

Cassandra's eyes narrowed. "I highly doubt you're any older than I am, Sirius."

"Seventeen, seriously born in June."

"Seventeen, born _a week_ from now."

"Oh, seriously? Damn it, that means _you're_ older than _I_ am, Ms…"

"She refuses to give her last name" Chancellor warned him. "Something about spoiling a future plot twist."

"Mhm!" Cassis nodded. "So, _Liam!_" she began again. "Were you working here on the day of the murder, by Chance?"

"Yup!" he squeaked. "I was seriously here, putting in my nine to five, even if it was _seriously_ ten to six…"

"Don't you go to school?" Chance asked. "Actually, scratch that." He moved his body so he faced both Cassie and Liam simultaneously. "Don't _either_ of you go to school?"

Cassie looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Please, Chancellor, I'm trying to do my job here, we can talk about such things later."

"Yeah! Seriously!" Sirius chimed in.

"Fine, fine" Chance dismissed. "So, Mr. Sirius, did anybody come into DETOX on the day of the crime?"

"Seriously did!" Liam nodded. "The general Manager, Mr. Streng was here, he seriously fell into the waste pit!"

"What time was he let out?" Chance baited.

"Well, Mr. Streng makes us follow all these seriously strict regulations, there's a seriously _huge_ amount of paperwork and procedures and other stuff like that, so we didn't release him until 6:00!"

"Do you have any idea why Mr. Streng is having you lie about that?"

"Seriously? I don't have a clue," Liam admitted, shaking his head. "All I know is that I have to tell you he got out at six, otherwise I'll get in _serious_ trouble." He scratched his head for a minute, fiddling with his glasses with the other hand. "Though… if I had to guess…" he lowered his voice to a whisper. "I seriously think Mr. Streng has a girlfriend that works under him."

"Eh?" Chancellor asked, surprised to hear the same subject come up twice in one day. "Why do you think that?"

"Well… when Mr. Streng was pulled out of the pit, he was seriously clutching a bunch of wilted flowers for dear life. I mean, seriously. He was also grumbling about how 'inconvenient' this was, and how 'someone was going to seriously pay for interrupting…' well, you get the idea."

"He got _flowers_ for someone?" Cassandra sighed. "Man, people are getting so _unoriginal_ these days! 'If you want to win a woman over, get her flowers and chocolates'. 'The way to a man's heart is through his stomach'. What ever happened to witty, spontaneous shows of affection? Why on _earth_ does our society think that love can be bought with pre-wrapped gifts that anyone and _everyone_ can get their hands on? Even something from _Create-A-Cow workshop_ would be more original than flowers!"

Chance raised his hand shyly. "Um… Cassie? I… I like flowers, actually…"

"Well, you're not a woman now, are you Chancellor?" Cassie tutted.

"_What does that have to…_" he stopped. "Whoa. Deja vu. And actually, I _can_ see why not being a woman would have something to do with that. "

"Well there we go then" Cassie nodded, satisfied.

_Good gravy…_ Chance whispered under his breath. "Anyway, what time was Mr. Streng _actually_ released?"

"Still seriously scattered-brained, I see" said Sirius. "I just told you, if I tell you, I'd get told off, and probably fired!"

"That's blackmail" Chancellor informed him. "It's illegal, and you don't have to follow it. Besides…" he smirked. "If you _do_ get fired, you can always come see me. Something about Abraham Streng is just _begging_ for a lawsuit."

Liam thought for a minute, and then nodded slightly. "Four O' Clock. He came in at 12:30, and he got out at 4:00."

"A _full hour_ before the murder happened" Cassie noted. "He could have done _anything_ in that time."

"Did you see him at all after that?" Chance asked.

"Seriously, I did!" Liam said excitedly. "I seriously took a bathroom break at around... 5:30, and I saw him coming back in from the parking lot, looking seriously flushed and nervous…" His voice trailed off. "Have I been helpful at all?"

"Yes, you have" Chance affirmed. "Seriously."

"Do you think I should write a… oh, I seriously just forgot the word… a paper that says I'm seriously serious about what I'm saying?"

Chancellor thought over the description for a minute, and a light bulb went off. "Oh! You mean an affidavit! Sure, if you like."

Sirius' seriously serious affidavit: 'Mr. Streng was _seriously _released from DETOX at 4:00 pm on 5/19. I saw him again at 5:30; he was coming into the plant, and he was seriously flushed and seemed nervous.

Wilted Flowers: Proof of Mr. Streng's secret love affair??

"Glad I could help!" Liam smiled. He turned to Cassie. "Oh, and I'm seriously sorry about the whole 'power shower' thing…" he put a hand behind his head. "Though, I have to admit, I'm _seriously _enjoying the consequences…"

_**SLAP!**_

Liam lay on the floor, groaning. Cassie chuckled. "Unfortunately for you, Liam, I'm not wearing white. Bye now."

For the third time in several years, Chancellor feared for his life.

-Safeguard Nuclear Plant, Front Entrance. 5/21. 4:00 pm.

"So Chance" asked Cassie in a teasing tone. "What are you planning to do on your _big date?_"

"Well" Chancellor explained. "I plan to meet a girl at a place, eat some sort of food at said place, and quite possibly engage said girl in conversation while eating said food in said place. The object being, of course, that said conversation and said food in said place will lead to things being said by said girl that will make _me_ less sad. Savvy?"

Cassie moved her fingers through the air, taking apart the paragraph word by word, until she finally clutched her head in migraine. "Ow… my head…"

"Now you know how_ I_ feel around _you_," Chancellor teased.

Cassie was about to punch Chancellor in the arm when just then; a bottle of Mega Strength Ache-Be-Gone fell at Cassie's feet. A few seconds later, Christine Scrubbs rounded the corner. "I _knew_ someone was in pain back here!" she declared. "My spider… er, my grandma sense was a-tingling!"

"Wow" said Cassie, opening the bottle and taking the correct dosage. "This is even the specialized formula for my size and weight! Ms. Scrubbs, how do you _do_ it?"

The older woman gave a long belly laugh. "Aw, honey when you've been around as long as I have, these things come naturally." She lowered her voice. "For example, I'd suggest you take a good look at that psychiatrist's report again."

Chancellor cocked his head in interest. "Why do you say that, Ms. Scrubbs? I thought you suspected Andre."

"I do," she confirmed. "But I pride myself on being a _pretty_ good judge of character, Chancy, and Mr. Ne' Chrome…" she lowered her voice even further. "Well, he seems to me like the kind of person who fears the dead."

_He looks like a dead person; he chuckles every time he forgets that Ms. Nook is dead; his favorite show is 'Tales from the Crypt'… I don't know, that doesn't add up to a fear of the dead to _me. "I'll be sure to take that into consideration" Chancellor placated.

"You do that honey" Scrubbs smiled. "Oh, and before I forget" she reached into her pocket, pulling out a box of chocolate-covered strawberries. "I knew you'd be back again today, so I went out to the store and got these for you. Can't let you waste away now, honey!"

"You know, Ms. Scrubbs, that marriage proposal still stands…"

"Oh, hush" she laughed. Suddenly her head jolted upward and she sniffed the air. "Grandma senses…a-tingling…" she muttered. Suddenly, she turned around and yelled "Detective Spade! They're up here!"

A minute passed, then Tracy Spade rounded the corner. "I was two floors down and around a corner!" he exclaimed. "How did you know I was coming, let alone who I was looking for?"

"Comes with age, Hon" she said, patting him on the back "Comes with age." She turned around looking satisfied with herself, and left.

Tracy Spade looked after her for a minute in wonder, and then turned to face Chance and Cassie. "Boy, we could use someone like her on the force" he muttered. He threw his voice in a perfect imitation of Christine. "Hey Hons! Is this the decisive evidence you were looking for? Aw, weren't nothing to it, I'm only here to please after all!"

Cassie laughed. "Detective Spade, that was really good! Where'd you learn to do that?"

"Oh, that?" Spade laughed. "I'm a ventriloquist! I do kid's birthday parties in my spare time to reel in some extra dough!" He got on one knee, held his hand up, and opened and closed it to make it look like it was talking. "I say there, young lady," he said in a perfect imitation of Judge Scotty's voice. "Do you or this lady here know where I can find Mr. Moore?"

"_Detective Spade!_" Chancellor said emphatically, stomping his foot.

"_Detective Spade!"_ the hand-man echoed back in perfect similarity. He stood up. "Sorry about that again, Mr. Moore. I come from a time when…"

"Men were men, women were women, nickels were made of nickel, right, I've heard this before" Chancellor interrupted. "Why did you want to see me, Spade?"

"I just thought you might want to know" Spade said, flipping through a folder and pulling out a slip of paper, "that the tests from the trunk of Mr. Ne' Chrome's car have been completed."

"Right' Cassie nodded. "We got those results in court today, remember?"

Spade simply smiled and shook his head. "These results are in further detail, and I'm sure you'll find something in there to work with."

Updated Forensics Report: Patch of blood towards back of trunk confirmed to be Ms. Ashley Nook's blood. Blood on latch does not match.

"Do you like how that last sentence has a rhyme in it?" Spade smiled.

"_Detective Spade, this is serious!_" Chancellor yelled. "Someone else's blood? This blows the prosecution's entire case out of the water!" He looked at him suspiciously. "Why on _earth_ are you giving this to me?"

"I told you, our policy is 'fight fair'" Spade explained. "Besides, the prosecution can easily argue that it belongs to someone who's come into contact with the car recently." He smirked. "It doesn't take much to get this kind of blip dismissed, I've seen it happen. Ms. Krasivaya is a _genius_ after all." His eyes lit up, as if just remembering something. "Hey! That's right! I just remembered something!" (See?) "You and Ms. Krasivaya! You're not really…"

"Well, actually, yes, he is." Cassie informed him. "And what's wrong with that? Should what a person does affect how they treat other people? Should the profession you choose to contribute to govern your interactions with other people? Do attorneys and prosecutors have to be enemies at _all_ times? No! My dad says that _all_ lawyers are bottom-feeding scum, so attorneys and prosecutors are actually kindred spirits!"

"Remind me to meet your dad one of these days" Chancellor said sarcastically, "He seems like a _great_ guy."

"I tried telling him that you're actually OK, but he wouldn't believe me," Cassie explained. "So sorry, but you're not coming over any time soon."

"The _tragedy_ of it all" Chancellor replied, rolling his eyes.

"_Hey!_" barked Spade. "_Stop trying to dodge the subject buddy!_" Chancellor jolted up straight, crying 'yes sir!' Spade smirked again. "Good. Now answer me one thing, buddy, are you _really_ interested in Ms. Krasivaya?"

Chancellor blinked. "What do you mean?"

"It's just that, she's been running all over the place, getting you clearance to see Safeguard's files and all that..." he eyed Chance suspiciously. "It kind of seems to me that you're doing this for _information_… and if that's true, I'll arrest you right here!"

"For what?" asked Chance.

"For… waste of a police officer's time!"

"Is that actually a crime?" Cassie asked Chance.

"They could bill it as an 'obstruction of justice' I suppose" Chance answered. He looked Spade in the eye. "You have my word as an attorney… wait, scratch that. You have my word as a _man _that I'm doing this one-hundred percent out of interest for Tanya." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I only asked for the file so she'd have a reason to come and still call it work."

Spade blinked. "Tanya's her first name?" He frowned. "She never told _me_ her first name," he grumbled. "Even after seven long years of working together…" he put on a smile. "Well, I guess you've allayed my fears. Good luck tonight Chance! And tomorrow I suppose…" he lowered his voice to a rasping whisper. "Oh. And be sure to comment on her shoes. Chicks _love_ it when you comment on their shoes."

Chance smiled appreciatively. "Thanks… I'll keep that in mind." _Now it's in my mind… and now its not._

"Glad I could help!" Spade barked, and with a wave he was out the door.

-Thenue and Noble Law Offices. 5/21. 6:00 pm.

"AAAAAAAAGH!"

"Hold… hold still, will you Chance?" Cassie demanded, frustrated.

"_It hurts!_" Chance protested.

"Well then comb your hair more often!" Cassie yelled back, digging in with a comb and pulling out a knot of hair. Chancellor gritted his teeth and let out a grunt. "This isn't any easier on me you know!" she continued. "I'm a little girl! My arms aren't built for this much manual labor!"

"I'll do it then" came a voice from the hallway.

Chance whipped around, causing the comb to tear through another knot of hair. "NO!" He screamed, half out of pain and half out of fear. "Cassie, do whatever you want, just please, _please_ don't let Mr. Thenue comb my hair! He'll try to kill me!"

"With a comb?" Cassie asked, unbelieving.

"YES!"

She sighed. "That's alright, Morage, I've got it. I need to style it after I'm done anyway."

"Glad I could help" the veteran attorney chuckled.

-6:30 pm.

Cassie stepped back, amazed at what she saw. Chancellor stood there, wearing a neatly pressed suit coat, pants, and polished black shoes. His chain sparkled and gave off light like a one-colored disco ball, and his hair was neatly combed back, styled to match the hairstyle of a GQ cover guy. "You look… dare I say," she whispered. "…Masculine."

"Is that what it is?" Morage asked from the hallway. "It doesn't really suit him, does it?"

"Mr. Thenue, don't you have _work_ you can be doing right now?" Chance asked, irritated.

"I'm off work right now" he explained, taking a few steps into the room. "I _live_ in the building, remember?"

"How could I forget?" Chance muttered. "You're always banging on the ceiling, yelling up at me to keep it down…"

"What can I say? You're taste in music is _atrocious_."

"_Mr. Thenue, really, can't you go somewhere else?_"

"One of my employees is going out with a prosecutor," he said sternly. "Don't you think I should be the least bit concerned? Why, if we were at war, this would equate to 'fraternizing with the enemy!' I could have you shot."

"Well we're _not_ at war," Chance stressed, afraid Mr. Thenue might try it. "Besides, I thought all was fair in love and war anyway."

"Obviously not, seeing as there are so many different kinds of court-martials."

"… Fair enough" Chance conceded. "But don't you think you're treating me like a little kid here?"

"Well, that was my intention" Morage said, as if he had assumed everyone had known that.

"_Do you always have to…_"

Morage held up a hand. "Moore, in all seriousness, be careful about this." Chancellor gave him a puzzled look. "I know it may seem a bit like stereotyping… but attorneys and prosecutors really _don't_ get along all that often… as they shouldn't." Chancellor began to object, but Thenue waved him down. "You can be as high-minded as you like, saying that what a person does for a living shouldn't affect their lives… the truth is, it does." He cleared his throat, looking down at the ground. "I'm just afraid… and mark this moment, because its one of few such sentiments you'll ever get from me, Moore… I'm afraid you'll get hurt."

Cassie sniffed back a tear. Chance looked at Thenue for a moment, then smiled. "Are you sick or something? This is the second time you've helped me today."

"Now that you mention it…" Morage coughed. "I do have a slight fever, yeah."

"Well get better" Chance commanded. "If I actually start _liking_ my boss, I won't be a real American."

Morage actually laughed. "Fair enough."

-Fondue Stew's. 5/21. 7:15 pm.

_I knew he'd be late. Why did I get here on time?_

Tanya Krasivaya sat on a bench outside Fondue Stew's, playing absentmindedly with her pearls. She sighed. _Why am I still waiting here? I have absolutely no tolerance for this kind of thing, this lackadaisical tardiness that seems to follow that man wherever he goes._

_Yet, I suppose he might just be stuck in traffic…_

_That doesn't matter! He should have known there'd be traffic and planned accordingly!_

_But then, he wouldn't get the evidence he wants… besides; he might have tried combing his hair… that could have taken _ages…_argh!_

She clutched her head. Arguing with yourself _does_ tend to give you a headache.

"Um… are you ok?" came a voice from the street.

Tanya looked up and saw Chancellor getting out of his car. She looked at the vehicle for a minute, and smiled.

"So… you kept the Corvette for yourself."

"I bought it at police auction, actually" said Chancellor. "Besides, it's a nice car! Even if it _is_ green…" He stopped for a minute, unsure of what to say next. "Erm… nice shoes!" he said, glancing down.

"They're the same shoes I've been wearing all day, Chancellor," she told him.

"And they go so well with that chocolate brown backless dress" he recovered.

"My dress is black, Chancellor" she frowned "and I haven't turned around yet, so you can't _possibly_ know whether its backless or not."

"He he…" he laughed nervously. _Oh shoot… how do I make this right?_ "Aha!" he burst out suddenly. "Caught me in a contradiction I see," he smiled. "Doesn't that feel great?"

She nodded slightly. _Oh… I get it! He _meant_ to mess it up! Well, probably not, but it was a nice save anyway._ She smiled. "You know, it _seriously_ does."

"Please don't use the word seriously." He requested, eyes closed, headache coming on.

"Why not?"

"Just… don't. Please. I'll tell you at the table."

She shook her head in wonder. "You are without doubt the _strangest_ person I have ever met, Chancellor."

"And it makes me that much more endearing, doesn't it?" He extended a hand out to her. "Shall we?"

She smiled at the gesture, and was about to take his hand when she stopped. Her face froze, and her eyes widened. "What the… what did you do with your hair?" she asked in a tone that was barely a whisper.

"Me? Nothing." Chancellor admitted. "But Cassie wouldn't let me leave the office until she made it look 'masculine'.

Tanya laughed. "Well, Chancellor" she said, taking his hand. "I'm sorry to say this, but masculine doesn't exactly _work_ for you."

"Then can you hold on for just _one_ more second?" Chancellor asked, taking his hand from hers. He walked briskly down the street and turned into an alley. Three and ½ seconds later he returned, his hair as unkempt and smexy as ever.

Tanya smiled. "_Much_ better." She took his hand, and they entered the restaurant.

-Inside. 7:20 pm.

"CHANcellor MOORaaaaaay!" came an enthusiastic Italian's voice from the back of the restaurant. He was an older man, slightly pudgy around the center, and he had a tendency to accentuate every other syllable when he got excited. "My NUMber ONE CUStomer!" He bounded across the room, wrapping Chancellor in a bear hug. "What can I DO for you, MISter. Moore?"

"Just a table for two, Stew" said Chancellor, turning slightly red from embarrassment.

"For two? Mr. Moore, you mean to say…" but he stopped, just noticing the Russian standing next to Chancellor. The man clutched his heart dramatically, swaying back and forth. "MAma MIa! You MEAN to SAY this SCRUMptious toMAto is with you?" He quickly got down on one knee, performing a grandiose bow and kissing her hand. "Allow me to make myself known to you. I am Stew DeBaker, the proud owner and head chef of this establishment."

"I didn't know fondue was an Italian art," commented Tanya, performing a gracious curtsey.

The Italian got to his feet. "It… is not. It is a Swiss art, though it is known to have been practiced in ancient Greece as well; in fact, the earliest record of fondue can be found in Homer's _Iliad_! I must confess… I am not skilled with the pasta or the tomato sauce that my ancestors are famous for." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "In truth, I can not even make my own pizza." He shook his head. "MAma MIa, my mother would be so ashamed."

"There's no shame in that" Tanya assured him. "I'm Russian, but I couldn't make a decent borscht to save my life!"

"Yeah!" chimed in Chancellor. "And even though _I'm_ American, I can't make a decent…" he paused for a minute, and a look of puzzlement came over his face. "Um… American… food… thing?"

"You're American, so you can not cook in general?" offered Stew.

"Hey!" Chancellor defended. "I make good ramen!"

Stew sighed, and led the two to their table.

-

"Stew! You really shouldn't have!"

"Oh, I could not resist CHANcellor! It was my pleasure!"

The table Stew to which had led them was in a private dining room that had been built onto a balcony. On the right, the lights of cars on Massachusetts Turnpike flew by. On the left, Boston Harbor glistened from the lights of the city, and far in the distance, the courthouse could be seen. Far off in the distance, only noticeable in complete silence, the Boston Symphony Orchestra could be heard practicing in Symphony Hall.

"Wow…" Tanya gasped, momentarily stunned by the sight. Chancellor and Stew exchanged a brief wink and a smile. Chancellor sat down at the table, and Stew hurried off to bring out the first course. "Chance, this is… beautiful." She turned around and saw him looking straight at her.

"You're right… it is."

She frowned. "Chance…"

He laughed. "I know, I know, it's a _terrible_ line, but I couldn't resist. Forgive me, peejaylstoh."

"Po-jahl-sta" she annunciated. "Chancellor, I'm glad to see you're making an effort but… please stop. It's kind of painful to hear my native language… well, mutilated. I speak English good."

"Well."

"Well what?"

"Well…" he sighed, shaking his head. "Nothing." He turned his attention to the briefcase she was carrying. "Is that…?"

"Hm? Oh, yes!" She said, bringing the case up to the table. "The files. Employment records, behavior reports, notes, memos…. Anything and everything from the past few months."

"You're a lifesaver, Tanya, thanks."He grasped the file gratefully and placed it next to him.

"You're not going to look at it now?" she asked.

"And actually be _prepared_ for the trial tomorrow? Please." He laughed. "In all honesty, I just used the file as an excuse." He smiled. "If I know you like I think I do, you're the type who doesn't believe in taking breaks while a case is going on, am I right?"

She flushed slightly. "Well… yes. How did you guess?"

"It's the exact opposite of the way I act," he explained. "I figured it would at least be close."

She shook her head. "Oh come on, we're not that different, are we?"

"Well let's see…" he mused. "You're a prosecutor; I'm an attorney. You're a woman that men fear; I'm a man that men hit on. You're meticulous; I'm lazy. You're a Russian; I'm an American…"

"Those aren't opposites," protested Tanya.

"Well yeah, but try telling that to anyone alive during the Cold War."

"… Fair enough" she conceded. "But it's not like we have _nothing_ in common… we both desire the truth, we both like chocolate-covered strawberries… we both get hit on by men a whole lot more then we want to be…" she stopped. Chancellor was chuckling to himself. "What's so funny?"

"Well… nothing, it's just…" he leaned in closer. "I'm glad to see you want this to work."

She stared at him for a minute. She held up a finger and pointed at him. "You're a _lot_ more conniving than I ever gave you credit for, you know that?"

Chancellor laughed. "I had to learn to be clever at a young age" he explained. "I was a perverted teenage guy once too, you know. You don't think I took advantage of my situation?"

"You didn't…" she half chuckled, half gasped.

"I've always wondered…" he asked, "why on _earth_ do they have couches in women's bathrooms?"

Tanya laughed. "You wouldn't understand Chancellor. It's a girl thing."

He frowned. "Are you sure I wouldn't understand? I'm pretty in touch with my feminine side… for obvious reasons."

She sighed, looking at him amusedly. "Don't kid yourself," she said. "There's _nothing_ feminine about you." He gave her a funny look, and she laughed again. "Well, besides the obvious, of course."

"You think so?" he asked softly. He smiled broadly. "That's the first time anyone's ever assured me of my masculinity."

"Gosh" said Tanya. "What kind of life have you led up until now?"

He laughed. "You wouldn't be able to imagine," he said cryptically.

She smiled at him. "I'd like to" she said softly.

There was a brief silence as the two of them looked at each other, knowing, yet not knowing what would happen next. Then slowly, at the same moment, they leaned towards each other.

"FONDUE UUUUUP!" screamed Stew. "Ice Cream Sandwich Fondue, perfect for dipping… oh." he stopped. He saw what was happening, and decided it was best for him to step out. Fifteen minutes later, a freshly reheated fondue pot finally graced the table, and the meal continued.

Author's note corner. (If you're only here for the story, stop reading now).

Name Origins! Again! :

Stew DeBaker: 'Stew' and 'Baker' because he cooks at/ owns a restaurant. Run the name together and its Studebaker! That's an old kind of car.

Liam Sirius: Sirius is close to 'serial' as in 'serial killer.' Everywhere he goes… someone dies… seriously. Sirius is also the 'dog star', which refers back to the fact that he wears a dog collar and chain.

Character In-Depth: Liam Sirius

Yes, he's back. The world's most annoying speech pattern has returned. Seriously.

First off, let's start with a little mental exercise. Get a seriously good picture of Liam Sirius in your head. Now, take off the glasses and dog collar, and make his voice deep instead of squeaky.

What do you get? That, my friends, is a rejected design for Chancellor Moore. When first I started thinking up the characters, I built Chancellor from the hair down; obviously, I had to start with spiky hair. He was Chancellor for a while until the whole 'man that looks like a woman' thing crossed my mind. The rest is history, or, more accurately, fan fiction.

Questions never asked… answered anyway:

What's with the speech pattern? : I went through a phase where I would end nearly every sentence with 'I mean, seriously'. I just decided to take that to the next level.

What's he doing back? : What's he _not_ doing back? I decided I liked his character a _lot_ more than I thought I did.

Favorite Color… it's green, right? : Nah, it's orange. He makes sure not to wear any of it though, apparently because it's 'sacred'.

Does he have theme music? : It's Ace Attorney! _Everyone_ has theme music. Liam's is a hard rock version of Ema's theme… at least that's what I hear when I write about him.

Favorite song? : Oh great, _you _again. He tells people his favorite song is 'We're Not Gonna Take It' by Twisted Sister as it promotes the 'rebel' image he tries (and fails) to pull off. His real favorite song is Avril Lavigne's 'Girlfriend'. Seriously.

Middle name? : As a tribute to JK Rowling, Liam's middle name is Regulus, effectively giving him both the Black siblings' names. It also refers to the fact that he's serious on a regular basis.

Learn Russian! :

ВСЕРЬЕЗ (pronounced 'vsyer-ez'): Seriously.

КАНЦЛЕР (pronounced 'kahnt-sler'): Chancellor.

АДВОКАТ (pronounced 'ahd-voh-kaht'): Attorney.

ПOЖAЛYЙCTA (pronounced 'po-jahl-sta'): Please.

General Pronunciation: 'Ж' is a symbol sort of pronounced like a j and a g mixed together. The pronunciation for the 'j' in 'Mahjong' is about right.

-

Did I do a good job describing the view from the balcony? I'm kind of worried as to whether that's realistic or not… I've never been to Boston. (So I set the story there…why?) As for why I know they have couches in some women's bathrooms… don't ask.


	5. Part IV

Disclaimer: _I could see! You owned by me! But I am just another faaaaaaan, yeah! I know that's what I! Have to say! Or else I will not get awaaaaaaaaaaay! YEAH!_

(Guitar chords).

_I said could I own Ace Attorney? _…No, I can't.

The Giant, Radioactive Turnabout

(Trial, part 2)

- District Courthouse, Defendant's lobby 3. 5/22. 12:42 am.

"Well, Andre" said Cassie, walking in the door with Ne' Chrome in tow. "Our case is thinning, Krasivaya's winning, our evidence is kind of lacking too… Streng is here raving; you're near beyond saving… the whole case looks real bad…" she looked towards Chancellor. "Chance, how are you?"

Chancellor turned around, an inhumanly large smile on his face.

"_I'm super! Thanks for asking! All things considered, I couldn't be better I must say! I'm feeling super! And nothing bugs me! Everything is super when you're don't you think my hair looks really great?_" He continued to sing, spinning around with his arms spread wide.

"… Well, I'm no expert…" Andre mused. "But... I'm thinking Mr. Moore had… quite a good… time… last night…"

"You don't know the _half _of it!" Chance exclaimed, wrapping Andre in a gigantic hug. "It was… glorious… amaxing…" he sighed. "The first time really _is_ the best..."

"Whoa, whoa!" Cassie yelled. "_Way_ too much information, buddy!"

Chancellor looked puzzled. "It's the first time I've ever kissed her… why is that too much information?"

"Oooooooh" Cassie laughed, turning red. "You were talking about… you're really happy because… you kissed her. That's it?"

"Well, yeah! What else is there?" Chance asked innocently.

"Well… Chance…" Cassie began, not believing she had to explain to a grown-up. "You see… when a man and woman love each other _very much…_"

"Tell me later" Chance interrupted, "right now, we need to focus on the case!" He pulled out a sheaf of papers. "I was so happy last night I couldn't sleep, so I went through _all_ of Safeguard's records over the past six months!" He ran his hand along the tops of the sheets. "And _these_ are the ones I believe will seal this case."

"So… wait…" Andre began hesitantly. "You're… saying that… we have a case… now?"

"Yeah! Isn't it great?" Chancellor asked rhetorically.

Tears came to Andres eyes. "But… if we have a case…" they began to fall "That means… _we're going to lose!_" He rocked back and forth. "I don't… I don't want to lose… you…" he pointed a finger at Chancellor. "You can't make me lose!" He said in a raspy whisper. He stared at Chance for a minute in anger, and then stormed off into the courtroom, again not caring the trial hadn't started yet.

Cassie and Chance stared after him. "Chance?"

"I'm feeling super, thanks for asking."

"Not that! You think you could show me these miracle files that will win the case?"

"Oh sure, no problem!"

Employment Records (names only):

February:

Abraham Streng

Jaden Friday

Andre Ne' Chrome

Houston Simpson

Marjorie Meriwether

Ashley Nook

Christine Scrubbs

Jan Itor

Max English

Michael Diablo

March:

Andre' Ne' Chrome

Houston Simpson

Ashley Nook

Jan Itor

Christine Scrubbs

Jaden Friday

Michael Diablo

William Laws

Abraham Streng

Scott Taype

April:

Jaden Friday

Andre' Ne' Chrome

Houston Simpson

Ashley Nook

Christine Scrubbs

Abraham Streng

Scott Taype

Thomas Hamilton

Jacqueline Prewitt

Paul Ratzinger

May:

Ashley Nook

Andre Ne Chrome

Abraham Streng

Houston Simpson

Liam Sirius

Christine Scrubbs

Ian Schlippe

Jacqueline Prewitt

Maxine English

Sean Connery

Streng's Psychiatry Report:

Safeguard Nuclear

Date: 4/20

Time: 4:00 pm.

Patient: Streng, Abraham

Examining Doctor: Friday, Jaden

-Patient is obsessed with authority, rules, and regulations. Shows strong dictatorial tendencies. Becomes angry and violent when authority or rules of any kind, particularly his, are usurped. Further counseling strongly recommended, and dismissal highly advised.

"We put the 'clear' in 'Nuclear'."

"Brilliant, Chancellor!" Cassie exclaimed after reading the report. "Now we can show that Andy's not the _only_ one prone to violent outbursts in that plant. We might actually stand a Chance!"

"That was the idea" he grinned. He looked at her. "That's a nice outfit by the way." Cassie blushed slightly, and looked over the faded blue jeans, blue sneakers, and brown tank top with a nondescript, yet instantly recognizable logo on it. "Is that the same thing you were wearing yesterday?"

"Heck, I don't know" Cassie dismissed. "I've got so many clothes I hardly even notice what I wear anymore."

"That's nice," said Chancellor, looking down at his own clothes. One of these days, he would have to buy another outfit.

-District Courthouse, Courtroom 5. 1:00 pm.

"ORDEEEEEEEER UUUUUUP!" came a familiar voice from the judge's bench. "The trial of Mr. Andre Ne' Chrome will now come to order!"

"The defense is ready," claimed Chancellor.

"The prosecution is ready," declared Tanya.

"And beautiful" Chancellor added.

"Sustained" Scotty said, banging his gavel. "Now first off, before I begin, I have heard, if the whole world hasn't by now, of what has happened." He eyes both Chance and Tanya sternly. "Nevertheless, I don't want any punches pulled in this courtroom, understand? Fight as if you hate each other."

"I don't know what you've heard, your honor" Krasivaya said with disdain. "But I hold that pathetic excuse for a man in no higher regard than I ever have; in fact, with all the rumors flying around, it's enough to make my rose of hatred for him flower into a million budding blossoms."

"Duly… noted?" Scotty said, tapping his gavel lightly. "I don't know where _that_ came from, but… ok…"

Chancellor had to keep himself from smiling. _Good gravy, she's hot!_

-Flashback-

"So" Tanya asked, dipping a strawberry into Stew's famous Ice Cream Sandwich Fondue, "I have to ask, I'm curious." She leaned towards him. "What is it exactly that first attracted you to me?"

Chancellor thought for a minute. "You know how, during the first case, you berated me using really big vocabulary and complex metaphors?"

"Yeah, I remember doing something like that" she nodded.

He pointed at her, swallowed a strawberry whole, and spoke. "That was one of the hottest things I've seen in my _life_."

She chuckled. "S and M much?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he said tauntingly.

-End Flashback-

"At any rate" Scotty bellowed, snapping Chancellor back to reality. "Seeing as it's Lia's birthday today, I'd like to get through this trial without any pointless…"

"Lia?" asked Cassie. "Wait a minute, wait a minute, who the heck is Lia? You can't just spring random characters on us and expect us to know what's going on!"

"… digression." Scotty finished, sighing. "But I suppose it's only fair. Lia is my wife, making it _particularly_ important that this case doesn't run too long… _understood_ Chancellor?"

"Oh come on, Scotty, don't you know?" Chancellor chuckled. "It's almost_ never_ me that drags the trial on unnecessarily, it's usually…"

"Lia's a bit of an odd spelling, isn't it?" Tanya asked, curiosity getting the better of her. "Is that a nickname too?"

Scotty sighed. "For starters, I'm not sure _how_ you knew it was spelled funnily, seeing as I only _spoke_ the name… but in answer to your inquiry, it's short for 'Australia', and no, before you ask, I'm _not_ explaining that." He slammed his gavel on the desk. "Could we _please_ call the first witness? If we keep wasting time like this, I may have to start handing out penalties!" He shuddered. "And you know how much I hate that."

"We didn't, actually, but nevertheless, I'll comply, your honor" Tanya said. She cleared her throat. "The prosecution calls Mr. Abraham Streng to the stand!"

Streng took the stand, flipping his stovetop hat about in his hands and bouncing up and down at a speed that, while unconfirmed, bordered on 600 BPM (bounces per minute). Ten bounces per second, for those of you who are bad at math.

"Name and occupation, if you would Mr. Streng" said Scotty.

"My name is Abraham Streng, and I am the Human Resources manager at Safeguard Nuclear power." He straightened his tie, and placed his hat back on his head. "I suppose, in layman's terms, I'm the manager of all other managers."

"But, wait… wasn't _Ms. Nook _Andres manager?" asked Cassie. "He was a manager after all, so wouldn't he fall under you?"

"Well, you see" Streng explained. "Safeguard Nuclear has a strict policy regarding managerial positions, namely that every manager should have an assistant. Ms. Nook was the _assistant_ Human Resources manager at Safeguard, which put everyone under _her_ as well… except me, of course."

"Yes, yes, very well then" Scotty said, annoyed. "I believe we now fully understand your occupation… and it was important… and… yeah. Can we get to the testimony now?"

"Your honor!" Tanya said, appalled. "Don't you think you should be a bit more professional about this?"

"As a matter of fact, I don't!" Scotty shot back. "Ms. Krasivaya, with all due respect, this _particular_ court is anything _but_ professional. _You're_ constantly spouting out these absolutely _poetic _professions of hatred, and Chance…" he chuckled to himself. "Well, he just isn't professional at all, is he?" He motioned to Chance's outfit.

"These are the nicest clothes I own" Chancellor mumbled, slightly ashamed.

"Duly noted" Scotty said, tapping his gavel lightly on the desk. "Now, really, as long as justice is being served here, perhaps we can drop the formalities? Normally I wouldn't mind, but in _this _court it feels kind of… stuffy." He grimaced. "And feeling stuffy makes my legs go crazy."  
"Er… fine, your honor" Krasivaya complied half-heartedly. "I'll drop my complaint… Mr. Streng? Your testimony please? Tell us your whereabouts on the day of the crime."

"Very well then" Streng said, straightening up. "Every day, I make it a strict rule to walk around the offices; check up on how the other mangers are doing, you know. I was going about my business as usual when the walkway suddenly caved in on me! I was quickly rushed to DETOX, all of my strict protocol were followed, and I was promptly released at 6:00 pm."

**OBJECTION!**

_Ok, did anyone _not_ see that coming?_

"Mr. Streng" Chancellor said sternly. "Before we go any further, I want you to know something."

"Oh? And what's that, Mr. Moore?" queried Streng, feigning professional interest.

"_The buck stops here_" Chancellor quoted somewhat successfully. "It will all be much easier if you cooperate, believe me."

"What will be easier?" asked Streng.

"_Prying the truth out of you_" Chancellor said, trying to sound threatening.

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Your honor!" yelled Tanya. "Mr. Moore is badgering the witness, and he has yet to justify his objection!" She flipped her hair back. "Our gregarious little girl scout should g…"

"Sustained" said Chance, not bothering to wait for Scotty. "And I'll be validating my objection _right now_." He pulled out Sirius' affidavit. "I have here an affidavit from an old friend of ours, Mr. Liam Sirius. He has been working with the Safeguard DETOX department for the past month."

"Seriously?" asked Tanya.

"Seriously" nodded Chancellor. "In this affidavit, Mr. Sirius swears that Mr. Streng was _actually_ released at 4:00 pm!" He pointed at Streng accusingly. "A _full hour_ before the murder took place."

"We have a strict policy against deception at Safeguard…" muttered Streng, trembling slightly. "I will see to it that this boy is…"

"Fire yourself!" shot Chance. "I'd be willing to bet that the _entire DETOX department_ will tell the truth when they realize you're not in a position to do anything about it!" He slammed a hand down on the desk. "Some of your rules and regulations don't _have_ to be followed, Mr. Streng."

The two men stared at each other for a minute. Streng let out a long sigh, and caved in. "I suppose you're right, Mr. Moore." He cleared his throat. "Very well then, I'll admit it. I was released at 4:00 pm, not 6:00."

The courtroom murmured.

"Why… why on earth would you lie about something like that?" Scotty pondered.

"It gives an alibi for the time of the murder" Chance proposed.

"Exactly right" Streng nodded.

There was silence for a minute. Scotty's jaw hung slightly open, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't think of what it was. Tanya gripped her shoulder tighty, hoping that she'd misunderstood what had just happened. Chancellor blinked. "Wait… Mr. Streng?" he said, perplexed. "Was that a confession?"

"What? Oh no!" Streng jumped back; his stovetop hat flew up in the air and he began to bounce furiously up and down. "No, I'm not confessing to _anything_, understand?" He shot Chance a dirty look. "I have a strict policy against confessions…" he mumbled.

"But!" Chancellor accused. "Unless you were _the murderer_ you wouldn't _need_ an alibi, would you?"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Mr. Moore!" Tanya yelled. "Do you realize how idiotic that statement is? That's like saying that the person who bought ice cream from the store was the man who drives the ice cream truck! Just…"

"Just because he's got the best reason to, doesn't mean he's the one who did it" finished Cassie. "I've given a rant like that before, I'm sure of it. Why are you copying me?"

Tanya flinched. "It… was completely unintentional, I assure you." She cleared her throat softly. "Mr. Streng? Perhaps you can best solve this problem for us?"

"Me?" Streng reacted. "Heck no, I've got a strict policy against digging myself deeper than I already am."

"_Mr. Streng!_" snapped Tanya.

(Bouncing exceeds 700 BPM). "Alright, alright! Fine… I'll testify…" he said, clutching his stovetop for dear life.

"You see, when I first heard about the murder from Ms. Scrubbs, the only thing I could think was 'they'll suspect me.' I keep a very strict timetable at the plant, and if it were known that I was released at 4:00, people could come to the conclusion that I had continued my strict rounds and was in Ms. Nook's room at the time of the crime! I told the DETOX department to modify their normally strictly factual report to avoid any unnecessary accusation… though it seems that all my efforts haven't helped at all."

"That seems natural" Tanya agreed quickly. "I'm sure even our hasty, harebrained attorney friend over there could understand your actions."

"Harebrained? That's not really an insult," Cassie pointed out. "If his brains were made of hair, he'd be smarter than you!"

"_I'm not already?_" Chance asked incredulously.

"Don't be so naïve," Cassie snapped, "of course you're not; you're a guy."

"_What does…_ oh forget it, I'm going to cross-examine now."

"And the defense's assistant will refrain from personal attacks on the male gender!" Scotty boomed, banging his gavel.

"Thanks Scotty." Chance turned to face Streng. _All right, I'll admit, it seems like a decent enough reason, heck I could see _myself _doing something like that… but something just doesn't seem… right with it._ "Mr. Streng… you met with Ms. Scrubbs during the period of time between 4:00 and 6:00, yes?"

"As I stated," Streng noted. "Be wary, Mr. Moore, I have a strict policy against repeating myself."

"And… she was the one who informed you of the murder?"

"As I stated," Streng noted. "And I must stress, I have a _very_ strict policy against repeating myself."

**OBJECTION!**

"_You just contradicted yourself!_" Chancellor yelled; arm outstretched.

"Fair enough, Chance" Scotty nodded. "But what does that have to do with this case?"

"Absolutely nothing" Chance admitted. "I just felt like pointing that out…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"_Mr. Moore!_" yelled Krasivaya. "If you have nothing substantial to object to, then allow the witness to step down!"

"Hey, hey, not so fast, gorgeous" Chance waved down. "Don't jump all over me, I'm just getting warmed up!"

Tanya flinched slightly. _Did he make that suggestive on purpose?_

"Yeah," said Chance, apparently to no one. "Anyway, back to you Mr. Streng."

"It's about time" Streng commented, irritated. "You're lucky you don't work for me, Mr. Moore, I have a strict policy against…"

"Strict policy, rule, regulation, yeah, of course" Chance interrupted. Streng gritted his teeth and tensed, but said nothing. Chancellor cleared his throat. "Mr. Streng, you said earlier that Ms. Scrubbs informed you of the crime… what exactly did she tell you?"

"Well, she told you what she told me, did she not?" Steng queried.

"Just answer the question" Chancellor iterated. Krasivaya stretched.

"Well, she informed me that Mr. Ne' Chrome's scythe was in her broom closet, covered in blood, and that she had heard he and Ms. Nook arguing that day. Naturally, I put two and two together, and began to formulate an alibi in my mind, should worst come to worst."

"You didn't just… call Mr. Ne' Chrome and Ms. Nook to some sort of meeting?"

"Well… Mr. Ne' Chrome had already left, and Ms. Nook was already dead by then."

"But Mr. Ne' Chrome _hadn't_ left by that time!" Chance objected.

"Well, I didn't know that, did I?" Streng defended.

"Well, yes, I suppose that's true…" he stopped. He thought over Streng's words for a minute, then his eyes widened. "Mr. Streng?"

"_What_ is it now?" he asked, bouncing slowly.

"Why… why did you assume that Ms. Nook was dead?"

"I already _told_ you, Ms. Scrubbs told me about the scythe and the argument!" Streng repeated, beginning to bounce a little faster. "And I _also_ already told you, I have a _strict_ policy against repeating myself!"

"But it seems odd to me," Chance mused, "That a manager could so easily accept that one of his employees was dead." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I mean, think about it. If you found blood on a kitchen knife in your house, and had heard two of your family members arguing… would you automatically assume that one of them had died without any further proof?" He pounded a hand on the table. "_And even if you _did_ assume that, would you automatically assume _which_ of the two was the one who was killed?_"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Your honor, this is purely speculation!" Tanya objected. "This is Moore fantastical then one of my uncle Dostoyevski's fishing stories!"

"It doesn't seem that odd to me, actually" Scotty argued back. "Writing somebody off as dead, especially someone that you _know_… that's not _exactly_ normal human behavior. I've read about cases where people see someone die right before their eyes and don't believe it for several minutes." He turned to Streng. "Do you have an explanation for this lack of disbelief, Mr. Streng?"

"Well…" Streng muttered, bouncing all the quicker. "I have to say, I really didn't think about it at the time… I just… well…"

"Knew already?" Chancellor accused.

Murmur murmur murmur, murmur, murmur, murmur murmur.

Streng flinched back visibly; his stovetop hat flew off his head, and he began a 600 BPM tirade. "Where… on earth… do you pull something like _that_ from?"

"Well, think about it!" Chancellor explained. "The most likely explanation for a woman not being shocked that she's pregnant is her knowing that _she already is!_ I figure it's kind of the same thing."

_Hm…_ thought Krasivaya. _You know, now that he mentions it… that kind of makes sense! _**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**"Not related in the slightest," she said aloud. "I move that the defense's theory be stricken from the record, your honor; it really _is_ baseless!"

"Overruled" Scotty dismissed. "The exact same thing happened with me and Lia a couple of years ago; I wasn't a bit surprised when she told me." He cleared his throat, signaling that he didn't want to be asked to delve further into that subject. "You may continue, Chance."

"I'll just ask you one question, Mr. Streng" Chancellor said. "Did you or did you not _know_ that Ms. Nook was dead when Ms. Scrubbs told you?"

Streng faltered for a minute, then looked down at the stand. "Yes" he uttered.

And in the courtroom, all hell broke loose.

Author's Note Corner: (If you're only here for the story, you can stop reading now).

It's shorter this time, I know.

It's been taking me so long to write the trial chapter, I decided I had to break it up into multiple parts.

Oh well, that just means more chances for you all to write adoring reviews, right?

-

-

Right?

-

Fine… next segment.

Character In-depth: Morage Thenue

The man whose name causes Microsoft Word to cry late into the night. (_They're not really words! They're not really words!_) Yeah.

Despite many attempts to morph the desired pun into a real name… I just couldn't do it. Therefore, the world of Chancellor Moore was graced with a 100 made-up name. Graced… or sledgehammered, depending on your point of view.

Meaningless Tidbit: He was almost named 'Avalon Pressley', and he was going to have a crooning sort of voice instead of always being angry. But then I figured one singing attorney was _Moore_ than enough. (Shoot me now, please. It will help the children in Georgia.)

Questions never asked… answered anyway:

Show me the middle name! : (Sigh). I can never get away from you, huh? Morage's middle name is 'Barnes' so that, when you take the two senior partner's names together, you get 'Barnes and Noble'! That's right, another full-groan pun, even if it is more of an allusion.

What's he have against Chancellor? : Well you see, Morage has disdain for _anyone_ who is content, confident, or has a decent self-esteem. Since Chancellor has these to the nth power, Thenue's disdain for him borders on pure, unrestricted hatred.

Ooh! Ooh! What's his favorite song? : 'Welcome to the jungle' by Guns n' Roses. The legal world is a dog-eat-dog place, after all.


	6. Part V

Disclaimer: Warning, do _not_ attempt to bounce insanely fast on your toes after reading this fan fiction. It could result in sprained ankles, tendonitis, leg fractures, migraines, hearing loss, brain damage, rabies, cowpox, or death. For those of you who are not trained in the art of medicine, these things are bad. You do _not_ want these things to happen to you. That is all.

_Legal_ disclaimer: I own everything in this fic except what it was inspired by.

The Giant, Radioactive Turnabout

(Trial, part 3)

-District courthouse, Defendant's lobby 3. 5/22. 2:34 pm.

"Losing…" Ne' Chrome muttered to himself in a corner, clutching his _Tales of the Crypt_ novel to his chest. "We have a case… we're losing… guilty…guilty…_guilty…_"

Cassie shook her head in disbelief, and then turned to Chancellor. "I just… sometimes I think I'm the most rational and mature one here, you know?" she asked.

"I'm feeling super, thanks for asking" Chancellor sang, oblivious.

Cassie slumped over. "That just… that just proved my point." She sighed, and straightened up. "So, why do you think Mr. Streng admitted to seeing the body?" she asked curiously. "I mean, he could have easily denied it, and we'd be up a creek! Won't this make him look more suspicious?"

"Actually, it's the opposite" came a voice from the hallway. A Hispanic detective strode in to the room, plopping down on the couch as if everyone had been expecting him. "You see; a killer's first instinct is to distance himself…"

"Or herself" Cassie added.

"Is to distance him or herself from the crime as much as possible" Ricky continued, not showing the least bit of annoyance. "But Streng is smart. He knows that by confessing that he's seen the body, he gives himself an opportunity to remove himself from suspicion by claiming to be a 'shocked witness' or a 'distressed body finder with an ulterior motive.'" He cracked his knuckles, placed his hands behind his head, and waited for applause.

It came. "Dude!" Chancellor congratulated, "that was an _awesome_ explanation!"

"I think you mean…" Ricky said, building tension in his voice.

"EXCELLENT!" (Meedlymeedlymeeeeee!)

Cassie laughed. "Alright, alright, that's enough clowning around!" She held out her hand. "Alright Ricky, where is it?"

"Where's what?" He asked, confused.

"You know... _it!_ That deus ex machina file that will solve the entire case for us!"

"I'm… off work right now, actually" Ricky explained. "I just came down to check things out… yeah."

"So wait… we're supposed to solve the case with the evidence we already have?" Cassie asked, unbelieving.

"Well, you know, that's how it usually _works_ around these parts" Chance explained. "Ricky and I just have a habit of making things Moore interesting around here."

Ricky gave an enthusiastic nod. "Maybe I should show up as you one day," he suggested. "Completely screw with everyone else's minds."

"I'm _pretty_ sure I'd get disbarred for that" Chancellor mused. "Besides, if they figure out who you are, it won't be as cool when you suddenly burst into the courtroom, hand me the decisive evidence I need, and then leave." He laughed. "You have to admit, _that_ makes things interesting."

"Yeah! And that one time I impersonated Scotty?"

"They didn't know until he actually came back into the courtroom!" Chance remembered.

"Um… guys?" Cassie whispered. "Not to break up this friendly chatter but… don't you think we should focus on the case?"

"If you haven't noticed," Chancellor whispered back. "Not focusing on the case has calmed Andy down _quite _a bit." He pointed to Andre, and sure enough, he was now calmly sitting on the couch, reading from his graphic novel.

Cassie looked at Andy for a minute, and then smiled. "Chancellor, I don't give you enough credit sometimes, you know?"

Chancellor laughed, and ruffled Cassie's hair. "Cassie my dear, I have a feeling you'll be saying that _a_ _lot_ in days to come."

Her face fell slightly, but not enough for Chancellor to notice (seriously). "Yeah… the days to come… of course."

-District Courthouse, Courtroom 5. 5/22. 3:00 pm.

"Ahem" Scotty cleared his throat. "I believe we've settled down sufficiently," he said, referring to both his legs and the courtroom spectators. "We shall continue with the cross-examination of Mr. Abraham Streng!"

"The first thing the defense requests" Chancellor said, cutting right to the chase, "is that Mr. Streng give further testimony on what is, really, the most pressing issue right now." He pointed at Streng accusingly. "And that is! _Where did you get that awesome hat?"_

Silence.

"Um… Chancellor?" Cassie ventured. "That was the question you were going to ask Mr. Streng when the trial was _over_, remember?"

"Mixing up facts like a toddler mixes up a 5000 piece jigsaw puzzle…" Krasivaya insulted poetically. "It's amazing you passed the bar, you know that, Moore?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I would have failed if Ricky hadn't made me stay up day after day cramming" Chance laughed. "Anyway, forgive me Mr. Streng, but there _is_ actually a more important issue right now… namely, _how_ did you know Ms. Nook was already dead when Ms. Scrubbs told you about the scythe?"

"I suppose that's obvious," Streng said scornfully. "I walked in on the dead body, didn't I?"

Hustle bustle rustle.

"Mr. Streng!" Scotty reprimanded. "Why didn't you say this earlier?"

"Or say anything on the day of the crime?" Tanya added.

"I think we'd _all_ like an explanation of that," Chancellor said. "Testify. Now."

"You could at least say please," murmured Streng. "I have a strict policy against…" Chancellor glared at him with a look of feigned hatred. "Fine, fine, I'll testify" he conceded, bouncing.

"When I first walked into Ms. Nook's office, I was shocked. The sight of her body just lying there…" He cleared his throat. "Although I have a strict personal policy against overreacting… I lost it. I ran out of the room and into my office, shutting the door firmly behind me. I stayed in there I don't know how long, until I heard Ms. Scrubbs screaming about the scythe."

"And about what time was that?" asked Tanya.

"That was around…" Streng thought for a minute. "5:00 sticks in my mind for some reason." He bounced up and down for a minute, and then shook his head. "That's right. It was 5:00 when the hammer fell… so to speak."

"Thank you" Scotty nodded. "Well Chance? What are we asking him this time?"

"Oh, a little bit of this, and a little bit of that" Chance replied.

_Clap clap clap clap!_ Clapped Cassie.

Chancellor chuckled to himself, and then turned to face Streng. "Mr. Streng… you're absolutely certain about the time, right? I mean you seem pretty confident."

"Yes" Streng nodded. "It was 5:00. I'd stake my life on it."

"Why so certain?" Chancellor asked. "Did you see or hear anything that branded that time into your mind?"

"Well... yes, actually" Abraham nodded. "There's this enormous clock in Mr. Simpson's office. I distinctly remember thinking 'my life is falling apart' at every chime, then scolding myself for violating my strict personal policy against overreacting."

"That's nearly poetic enough to have been said by Tanya…" Cassie commented.

"Except it's been quite some time since I've scolded myself" Tanya added on.

"Probably because you've got nothing to be angry at yourself about" Chance flirted.

"Ooh! Mr. Moore!" Tanya said seductively, one of her dresses straps _accidentally_ slipping off her shoulder. "Don't even think of playing my game" she gave a long stretch, and then snapped up looking serious. "Those soldiers who have tried to reverse-engineer my own weapons of mass seduction back at me have found themselves discharged from duty within a month."

"Ahem?" Scotty cleared his throat tentatively. "I know I said we shouldn't be formal in here, but… can we save the shameless flirting for _after_ the trial? Remember, it _is_ Lia's birthday."

"Fine by me" Chancellor complied. "Now let's see… what was I going to do…" He paused for a minute. He looked down into his chain, grinned to himself, and said "oh yeah!"

**OBJECTION!**

"Mr. Streng!" he shouted in newfound accusation. "I'm not sure your aware of this, but your testimony has created a…"

"A major contradiction that will no doubt lead to some shocking and unsuspected truth being revealed, yes, _I know_." Streng lashed out, bouncing faster than Tigger on steroids. "Honestly, don't you have any better lines? I, personally, have a strict policy against using the same tired lines over and over again, I'll have you know." He fixed his stovetop on top of his head. "Very well then. Tell me what trivial thing in my testimony is different from reality that can most likely be attributed to human error and nothing Moore."

"An _insult_ that could have been given by Tanya" Cassie commented again. "I think they might be related!"

"The contradiction lies here" Chance said, referring to the court records of Ms. Scrubbs' testimony. "Ms. Scrubbs clearly testified…"

_"The incident I'm here to testify about occurred at around 5:00 or so…_

_The arguing just… stopped." She paused for a moment, wiping away a tear from her eye. "That was around… 5:10 or so, and Mr. Ne' Chrome left the building at 5:30."_

"You see? Ms. Scrubbs heard Ms. Nook, very much alive, as late as 5:10!" Chancellor slammed his desk. "_You couldn't possibly have seen Ms. Nook's dead body then!_"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"As Mr. Streng as said _himself_" Tanya challenged, "such a contradiction is easily explainable as human error!" She flicked her hair back dismissively. "Mr. Streng simply forgot or misread the time, or perhaps the clock in Mr. Simpson's office gave the wrong time!"

**OBJECTION!**

"For starters" Chance answered. "Whether Mr. Simpson's clock is wrong or not is inconsequential! Ms. Scrubbs was using that clock to tell the time by as well!"

Tanya flinched slightly. "Yes, I suppose that's true, but…"

"_I'm not finished!_" Chance interrupted. "There isn't any room to chalk this up to human error, either! If you hadn't noticed, I asked Mr. Streng _repeatedly_ if he was certain about the time, and he replied with absolute certainty every time!"

"So what are you saying?" Tanya asked. "That Ms. Nook was dead by 5:00, and that _Ms. Scrubbs_ was lying?" She slammed her hand onto the desk. "_Are you seriously accusing that nice old lady of murder?_"

"Of course not!" Chancellor shot back. "If the body _was_ dead by 5:00, that would contradict the autopsy report! In order for a body to be found dead at 5:00, the time of death would have to be _before then_, otherwise Mr. Streng would have seen the killer!"

"Then… then what _are_ you saying, Chance?" Cassie asked. "I think the audience deserves to know that much."

"Um…" Chance stopped for a minute. _Don't look down, don't look down… ah, screw it._ He looked into his chain. "I'm saying…" he remembered. "That when Mr. Streng testified about 'his life falling apart with every chime'… he was telling the truth." He pointed dramatically for emphasis. "But the thing that caused him to think that… _wasn't_ finding the body!"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Mr. Moore, while that may be true…" she stretched and gave a soft yawn. "Do you really think that kind of explanation will hold up in a court of law? You can't honestly expect to build a case off of 'something different happened'." At the defense's bench, Andre gave a relieved sigh.

"Don't relax yet, Andre" Cassie warned. "I have a feeling that Chance is actually going somewhere this time."

"Thanks for your support, Cassie." Chance gave a slight bow. "And yes, I do have an idea as to what caused Mr. Streng to feel that way… and evidence, of course."

"Really?" Tanya asked in a tone that was both mocking and flirtatious. "Then enlighten the court, Mr. Moore. What on _earth_ caused Mr. Streng to feel like his life was falling apart?"

"That which vexes all men" Chancellor quoted, giving a quick wink across the room.

"Tetris?" asked Scotty, confused.

"Boredom?" asked Cassie, equally confused.

"Global warming?" asked an environmental activist from the audience.

Andre sighed. "A woman" he warbled in a brief moment of wisdom. Streng began to bounce more rapidly than he had all day.

"Thank you, Mr. Ne Chrome" Chancellor nodded. "Mr. Streng? Care to come out with it now?"

"I'm not saying anything," he said tersely, bouncing rapidly. "You _know_ I have a strict policy against self-incrimination…"

"Then I'll just have to explain my logic" Chance said. "First, notice in Ms. Scrubbs' testimony the _time_ that the argument started."

"It's 5:00!" Scotty exclaimed after he surveyed the record.

Chancellor nodded. "The exact same time that Mr. Streng has had branded into his memory. Since Mr. Streng is so certain he saw Ashley Nook at that time, that can only lead me to believe that it was _him_ in that room arguing, not my client."

"It certainly… wasn't _me_" Andre added. "Ms. Nook and I have a…" he chuckled slightly "_had_ a… 'strict policy' if you will, only to argue between 10:00 and 4:00."

"So what?" Tanya barked out quickly. "Even if we accept as truth that Mr. Streng was the one arguing with Ms. Nook, that doesn't give him any reason to commit murder! Considering his position in the plant, _he_ would be the one yelling at _her_, putting Ms. Nook, if anyone, in a position to lash out violently!"

"You're not paying attention, are you, dear?" Chancellor asked. "Mr. Streng _wasn't there_ for a work-related purpose!"

"Then what…" Tanya got out, beginning to understand but doing her best to deny it.

"I believe _these_ will answer everything for us" Chancellor said, putting on a rubber glove and pulling out the withered flowers with a flourish. "The reason I'm wearing gloves, by the way, is because these flowers _ate through_ the vase I put them in last night... You see; they fell into a _toxic waste pit_. Sound familiar?"

Tanya cringed. "If you're trying to stay that…"

"But I am" Chance stated. "And I even have a witness who can testify to the same effect, namely that _Mr. Streng was carrying these flowers when he fell into the pit!_"

"That's nice, Chance" Scotty said. "But how does this… matter… exactly?"

"Ooh! Ooh! I got it!" Cassie yelled excitedly. "You said that Mr. Streng and Ms. Nook were arguing, and that Mr. Streng was approaching Ms. Nook's office _with flowers_ when he fell in, right?"

"Go on" Chance encouraged.

"Could it be… the reason they were arguing… was because Mr. Streng was in love with Ms. Nook, and she didn't like him back?"

Streng said nothing, but slumped over as he had been hit in the stomach by a cannon shell.

"Could be" Chance nodded. "Mr. Streng?"

"You… don't … have… proof…" Streng muttered.

"Fair enough" Chance admitted. "But it's easy enough to imagine, isn't it? You finally muster up enough courage to break your own rule and ask out an employee. She turns you down, and for some reason or another, the two of you begin to argue. The clock begins to chime, and you can't help but think 'she hates me, I'm going to lose my job, my life is falling apart'. Then, in the heat of the argument…" Chancellor brought down one fist into an open hand. "Well, it's quite a convincing case, wouldn't you agree?"

"I have a strict policy against self-incrimination," he mumbled under his breath. "But yes… I would have to agree it is… quite convincing." He stared at the witness stand, as if trying to catch his breath.

"Mr. Streng?" Chance questioned.

"NO!" he yelled, eyes wild with fury. "I WILL NOT SPEAK! You can't… I have strict policy against…" he began to shake, his arms and neck vibrating at the same speed as his toes.

"The witness… can refuse to testify, if he believes that it will incriminate him of a crime," Tanya said, trying to keep the regret out of her voice. "I'm sorry, Mr. Moore, but that is the law. If the witness refuses to make any more statements, then this cross-examination is over." She averted her eyes, not wanting to see the disappointment in Chancellor's face.

_Damn it! Good gravy, damn it! I was so… damn it!_ Chancellor gave a curt nod. "I understand… Mr. Streng… you may go."

"It's about time!" Streng yelled angrily. "Honestly, drag me in here, accuse me of murdering an employee, I'll have none of it, understand? I'll be writing a strictly formal complaint when I get back to the office, mark my words Moore!" He swept his hat off his head, and walked out the doors of the courtroom.

Scotty cleared his throat. "Well, then, if there are no more witnesses, I suppose…"

**HOLD IT!**

"Cassie?" Chancellor whispered harshly. "Cassie, what are you…"

"_Mr. Streng!_" she yelled, stopping the man in the doorway. "_I'm ashamed of you!_"

Scotty banged his gavel. "ORDEEER UUUUUP!! Young lady, pipe down!"

"You loved her!" Cassie yelled, ignoring Scotty. "You loved her, and yet you won't admit it! You loved her, yet you refuse to honor her memory by letting justice be done! Of all the selfish, self-centered things you can do in this world…" she pointed at Streng accusingly. "Betraying the one you love is the most heinous of all! It's even worse than _killing_ her!"

"Bailiff!" yelled Scotty. "Bailiff! Detain her!"

"The inner circle of hell is reserved for betrayers and mutineers!" Cassie quoted angrily. "I hope you're happy with what you've chosen, Abraham Streng!"

"Cassie, calm down!" Chance warned before he was pushed aside by the bailiff.

"Hey! Wait a minute!" Cassie yelled as the bailiff began to 'escort' her out. "I'm done, honest, get off of me!"

"Stop."

At the sound of the word, everyone ceased what they were doing. Chancellor stopped mid-stand, Scotty's gavel hung in mid air, Tanya's hand remained clenching her hair, the bailiff stopped dragging Cassie out, and the environmental activist stopped raising awareness about the rainforest.

Streng slowly turned around, tears welling up in his eyes. "She… she's right" he sobbed, slowly returning to the witness stand. "If I betray her now… even after all I've done to her before…" he sniffed. "I'll never be able to look in a mirror again!"

"I know the feeling… really, I do" Chance sympathized.

"What I should do with girl?" asked the bailiff.

Scotty thought for a moment, and then gave a small nod. "Let her go." The bailiff obeyed, and Cassie scurried back to Chancellor's side. "Have a nice trip?" he whispered to her.

"Your welcome, it was my pleasure" Cassie said caustically.

"Mr. Streng?" asked Tanya, trying to hide the relief in her voice. "You're willing to testify now?"

"Not testify…" Streng said wearily. "Confess." He looked at Scotty. "It was I that was arguing with Ms. Ashley Nook at 5:00 on the 20th of May. I was arguing with her because I had finally built up the courage to break my own rule and tell her… how I felt. She… rejected me. She told me that she was already dating… that she was already seeing someone. I… I lost it. I threatened to turn him in, to have him fired… I was angry, angrier than I'd been in my life, and then…" he stopped, and shook his head furiously.

"We understand" Chance comforted. "Everybody has moments where they just lose control… the best thing we can do is embrace those moments… and not trying to hide them, learn how to better ourselves." He smiled. _That was pretty deep_ he thought.

Scotty nodded. "Well put, Chance. I suppose there's no point in prolonging this trial." He raised his gavel. "I find the defendant…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Your honor!" Tanya annunciated. "I'm surprised at you! Ending a trial with so many unanswered questions?"

"Hm?" Scotty grunted in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"How did Mr. Streng move the scythe without being seen? When did he put the body into Mr. Ne' Chrome's trunk? How did he get into Mr. Ne' Chrome's house, move the body up into his bedroom, and then evade police capture when they entered the house?" She flicked her hair back, looking at Chancellor harshly. "I'm surprised, Mr. Moore, that you would be willing to leave so many questions unanswered." Her voice faltered. "I… I thought better of you."

"Um? Uh…" Chance tensed up. _Damn! Losing her! Losing her!_ "Wait… wait, of course I know the answers to those questions!" He relaxed. "I remember, I even have evidence to back up my claims!"

"Then let's see it, Moore" Tanya demanded. "The evidence that closes up the loose ends of this case!" _Because if you _don't_ have any… I'll never respect you again._

Chancellor racked his brain for the answer, but it wouldn't come. He sighed, took a deep breath, and looked down at his chain.

-

Author's Note Corner (if you're only here for the story, you can top reading now)

For those of you who are wondering; yes, I did end it there just to build tension. It's Moore fun that way.

And for those of you wondering why it's been so long… my computer blew up! BOOOM! Luckily, we were able to save the hard drive, but getting the new computer, getting a box for the hard drive, vacationing for a week in Vermont… well, the first time I'm seeing this chapter again is August 22.

Oops! We goofed! : There was no 'Learn Russian' section last time, huh? Never fear, this installment will be _extra extra_ long!

Character In-depth: Tanya Krasivaya:

An in-depth that is probably well overdue. All the juicy things you want to know about her will finally be disclosed! (Wow… you just can't talk about Tanya without sounding suggestive, can you?)

In the beginning, when I was thinking up original characters late one night trying to lull myself to sleep, Tanya was going to be a Von Karma rip-off. A pretty young prosecutor obsessed with perfection… but from Russia. The Moore I thought about it though, the Moore I realized that kind of prosecutor would just be too… easy for Chancellor.

Therefore, Tanya is _not_ obsessed with perfection. It just kind of comes naturally. She's not ruthless or maniacal or anything like that, she just wants to do her job well. The _evil_ prosecutors are coming though, don't you worry about that.

Questions never asked… answered anyway:

Um… I have a question… it's kind of embarrassing, but… : 48-24-36. Yeah. _Be_ amazed.

Favorite Song! You know you love it! ? : Tanya listens to mostly classical things, like Mozart or Tchaikovsky. Her favorite is 'The Four Seasons' by Vivaldi; in particular 'Summer' because it "paints a picture of a time that I was mostly unaware of in my native land." Yeah. Her words, not mine.

Name Middle? : It's 'ochen' spelled ОЧЕНЬ in Russian. It means 'very', making her name "Tanya very beautiful'.

Does she have any relatives? : No. Tanya Krasivaya was plucked from heaven itself and placed down on earth. _Of course_ she has relatives! A father, a mother, and an older sister, plus that wild storyteller 'Uncle Dostoyevski'. You don't have to worry about them though, they won't be in the story anytime soon. (Maybe not until the sequel… if there is a sequel… if I ever finish the _first_ one… if I'm not 20 by the time I finish the first one…)

Learn Russian! :

ОЧЕНЬ (pronounced 'ochen'): 'very'.

ЦЕПЬ (pronounced 'tsep): 'chain'.

Без перевода (pronounced 'bez per-ee-vo-da'): 'courtroom'.

УГОЛОВНИК (prounounced 'ug-ol-ov-neek'): 'criminal'.

ОБВИНИТЕЛЬ (prounounced 'ob-veen-eet-yell'): 'prosecutor'.

General Pronunciation: Ь. This is called a 'soft sign'. The general idea behind it is that it softens the pronunciations of some letters. Kind of hard to explain using the written word, but, I suppose it's the difference between saying 'yell' quickly and harshly versus saying it quieter and more fluidly.

У. This is a Russian 'u'. More specifically, it's the 'oo' sound that 'u' makes. This symbol: Ю, makes the sound 'you'.


	7. Part VI

Disclaimer: All your Ace aren't belong to us.

Progress Update: Whether I like it or not, THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER!!

And for those of you playing along at home, if you racked your brain for the evidence, scratched your head and said… 'Wait a minute! Mr. Streng isn't the murderer!' _You're 100 correct!!_

Unfair? Maybe. But it's a story, not a game, and it's Moore dramatic this way (particularly the end). And I've got the sneaking suspicion a lot of you will be kicking yourselves when you see the answer.

But I digress. Now for the 6th and final chapter of…

The Giant, Radioactive Turnabout

(Trial, part 4)

-District Courthouse, Courtroom 5. 5/22. 3:45 pm.

The courtroom held its breath, waiting for Chancellor to pull out a piece of evidence, interpret it's true meaning, and amaze them with his stunning intellect.

"The evidence that proves Mr. Streng's guilt?" Chancellor laughed loudly. "Of course I don't have any!!"

Silence. Cassie banged her head against the desk, gradually getting faster as her frustration grew. Andre' breathed a sigh of relief and slumped easily in his chair. Tanya quivered slightly. "Chancellor?" she asked, gripping her shoulder tightly.

_Why am I afraid all of a sudden?_

"Chancellor, you don't mean to say that this entire thing was an attempt to put a person you knew was innocent behind bars in place of your client?" She squinted at him harshly. "Because let me tell you Chancellor, if there's one thing I _hate_ more than anything in this world, it's attorneys who are willing to trade an innocent life for a guilty one." She looked away. "I… expected Moore of you, Chancellor."

"Eh? No! It's nothing like that!" Chancellor assured quickly._ Why does she sound a million times more menacing when she uses me first name? _"You'll have to forgive me, but… I… sort of… you know…" He smiled a wide, 'please forgive me' smile, and suddenly, everybody realized what had happened.

"You're not seriously…." Scotty trembled

"You didn't just…" Cassie blanched

"You're not _actually_ saying…" Tanya mumbled.

"Yeah, I am…" Chance nodded shamefully. "I mixed up who I was accusing for the crime."

Silence.

More silence.

Even more silence.

Still more silence, as the entire courtroom thought one thing. _……why?_

"Yeah… sorry" Chance apologized. "What I _meant_ to do was…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

_"Mr. Moore!_" screamed Tanya. "This court will not tolerate you shenanigans any longer! Your honor, I insist that you end this madness once and for all!"

Scotty nodded. "Yes, I believe this time you've messed up a little _too_ grandly, Chance" he bellowed. "I declare this trial to be…"

**OBJECTION!**

"Hold on a minute, hold on a minute!" Chance declared. _At least she's calling me 'Mr. Moore' again…_ "I said that I accused the wrong person, I didn't say I'd wasted the court's time!" He ran a hand through his hair. "The questions I've asked up until now have all been very vital to this case!"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"I'm sorry, Mr. Moore" Tanya shot back. "But your credibility right now is collapsing faster than a house of cards next to a railway station." She flicked her hair back. "If want us to believe that your testimony is as 'vital' as you say, you'd better back it up with some evidence! Now!"

"Gladly!" Chance answered, slamming down Streng's psychiatry report. "Have a look at this!"

"A psychiatric report…" Tanya mumbled, as she looked it over. "Patient is obsessed with rules and becomes violent when rules are usurped… yes, we _know_ that, Mr. Moore, what's your point?"

"Perhaps you don't know this, gorgeous…" Chancellor teased, "but there's a 'strict' policy at Safeguard against employee-manager relationships."

"Again, Mr. Moore, what's your…" she gasped. "Oh!"

"Exactly" Chance nodded. "This report states that Mr. Streng becomes 'angry and violent when authority or rules of any kind are usurped'". Yet Mr. Streng clearly went out of his way to usurp _his own_ rule, and has yet to make a violent action against…" he paused, glancing quickly at Ne' Chrome. "…Against a certain individual who he _knows_ has usurped his rules. Not only that, but early in this very trial…"

-Flashback-

"_Some of your rules and regulations don't have to be followed, Mr. Streng."_

_The two men stared at each other for a minute. Streng let out a long sigh, and caved in. "I suppose you're right, Mr. Moore."_

-End Flashback-

"Right here, in front of the eyes of the court, Mr. Streng openly admitted that rules and regulations can be disobeyed! _As we can clearly see, Mr. Streng is nothing _like_ what this report makes him out to be!_"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"While that may be all very well and good," Tanya argued, "it makes little difference to this case! _Andre' Ne' Chrome_ is the one on trial here, _not_ Abraham Streng!"

**OBJECTION!**

"But the parallel that can be drawn from this should be obvious! This report and that _you yourself_ presented yesterday…"

"Are both crocks" Streng finished.

Chancellor doubled back. "Well… yeah. How did you…?"

"_Because!_" Streng interrupted. "I…" his eyes opened wide for a moment, then he bit his lip. "I have a strict personal policy against divulging work-related personal information to unauthorized parties."

"It's alright Mr. Streng," Chance assured him. "I think I can piece things together from there… can you at least nod yes or no if I get it right?"

Streng thought for a moment, than shook his head.

"Well _this_ should be interesting…" Scotty said, legs twitching wildly. "Is there anyway we can have a twenty minute recess?"

"Not a Chance, Scotty" Chancellor said. "But rest assured, if things go the way I think they will, we'll have quite a long recess in a short while."

"Promise?" Scotty whimpered.

"Promise" Chance nodded. "Now, Mr. Streng, judging from this Employee Record…" holding the papers in his hand. "After you found out that Mr. Friday was giving quack diagnoses, you fired him, correct?"

A stiff nod from the witness stand.

"Are shakes and nods of the head even admissible as testimony, your honor?" Krasivaya interrupted.

"I don't know" Scotty admitted. "But I've got the strange feeling that things will only get Moore bizarre in the days to come, so I'm good with it."

"Thanks, Scotty" Chance smiled. "Now, Mr. Streng, you were the one who fired Mr. Friday?"

A shake of the head.

"No, of course not, it was _Ms. Nook_ who fired him, correct?"

A nod.

"And I'll bet Mr. Friday was pretty mad when that happened, huh?"

Another nod.

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"I'm sorry, perhaps I'm a bit slow here" Tanya interrupted again. "But I have to ask, how does _anything_ about Mr. Friday have _anything_ to do with the trial of _Andre Ne Chrome?_"

"Oh, sorry, I thought that was obvious" Chance said nonchalantly. "I'm accusing Jaden Friday as being the true killer of Ms. Ashley Nook."

So simply said, yet such uproar caused.

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"_WHAT?" _Krasivaya yelled, flinching backwards. "That's insane! You're going to accuse someone we've never even seen in this court, on the sole premise that he _might have been angry at her firing him?_"

"Well, no, it's Moore than that" Chance defended. "It was to protect his career as well!"

"What?" Tanya said, flabbergasted.

"Where did you…" Cassie started.

"What on earth brought you to _that_ conclusion?" Scotty demanded.

"Well…" Chance explained. "I was reading over this memo from the day of the murder," he said, holding up Nook's memo for the court to see. "See how it says 'Friday meeting TBA?"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Stop right there, Moore!" Krasivaya objected. "Don't you think you're reading a bit too much into that? It simply means that a meeting was planned for the _day_ Friday, not _about_ 'a' Friday!"

"Well, yes, I thought that too at first…" Chance admitted. "But then there's this other memo…" he flourished Streng's Memo. "See how it says 'company picnic after work Friday'? Granted, I'm no businessman… but don't you think a meeting held the same day as a company picnic would be a _guaranteed_ failure?"

"It most certainly would!" Streng added_._ "Everyone would be antsy to go outside and no work would get done at all!"

Chancellor flinched. "You… you actually agreed with me?"

"Well, I've got a strict policy of agreeing with people who are right" Streng said matter-of-factly. "Oh… and about whether this meeting was about Mr. Friday or not…" Streng paused for a minute, then gave a big nod.

"I _knew it!_" Chance yelled triumphantly. "Ms. Nook and others in the company were going to _blacklist_ him, weren't they?"

An overly dramatic pause, and then a small nod.

"YEEEEEEEEEEES!" Chance screamed, overconfidence _pouring_ out of him. "Scotty! Now we can have that recess you wanted! I request that Mr. Friday be brought to the court to…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"The simplest of minds truly are the easiest to please" Tanya scolded. "Mr. Moore, I congratulate you on scrapping together a motive for someone who we've never even met before," she shook her head in mock disappointment, "but, quite honestly, it amounts to nothing!"

"Um… um?" Chance uttered, confused.

"Mr. Moore, you're defense thus far has neglected to answer three very important questions!" She slammed her hand down onto the desk. _One! _How did this Mr. Friday move the weapon without being seen by Ms. Scrubbs? _Two! _How did Mr. Friday enter Mr. Ne' Chrome's house without being seen on the security camera? And _three!_ Why was Mr. Friday not found by the police when Mr. Ne' Chrome's house was raided?" She flicked her hair back dismissively. "No matter how you look at it, the only person who could have accomplished these feats, particularly the last two, is Andre Ne Chrome!" She pointed dramatically for effect. "There is no reason to bring Mr. Friday before this court!"

"Urk!" Chance flinched. "Well… you see… uh…" _Ah shoot! Even my reflection doesn't know the answer!_

"Please don't tell me you never considered that?" Cassie asked.

"Well… I kind of figured those questions would answer _themselves_ when Mr. Friday was brought before the court…" Chance replied.

Cassie slammed her head on the desk. Hard. "That hurt" she said. "But it doesn't hurt as much as the absolutely horrible shame I'm feeling right about now."

"Now I'm beginning to wonder if _you_ and Tanya are related" Chance said under his breath.

"This isn't a time for jokes!" Cassie yelled. "If we can't explain this, Andy is _dead!_"

"Dead…" Andre warbled. "De-de…_deeeeaaaaad??_" He jumped out of his chair hysterically. "No! No dead! Dead bad!"

"_Mr. Ne' Chrome!_" Streng commanded, "control yourself!" Andre froze, than sat back down.

_Wow… what power. I guess he's head manager for a _reason.

"If worst comes to worst, Andre" Streng reassured. "I'm prepared to testify that you would never hurt Ashley." He gave a slight smile, the first since his appearance in court. "But it shouldn't come to that."

Chance looked up, both shocked and interested. "What are you…"

"I'm _saying_" Streng interrupted. "That I have a very good idea how Mr. Friday _could_ have done these thigns… and if we bring him in front of the court… well, these questions _will_ answer themselves."

"Awesome!" Chance yelled jubilantly. "Scotty! We should…"

"Recess until Mr. Friday is brought to court!" Scotty declared. He banged his gavel quickly, and then ran out of the courtroom.

Cassie shook her head. "When did Ms. Scrubbs say she could get that medication again?"

-District Courthouse, Defendant's Lobby 3. 5/22. 4:26 pm.

Andre sat in a corner of the lobby, curled up in a fetal position. "Losing… dead…dead… losing… case… have case… dead…"

Ricky walked in the room, about to say a congratulatory word, but stopped suddenly. He pointed at Andre. "Um… does he know that…"

"Yeah" Cassie nodded. "He knows we're doing well, and he can't stand it."

"Um…" Ricky paused. "Um?"

"Yup" Chance said. "Our having a case has been a pretty big shock to him."

"It's been a pretty big shock to _me_ too," Cassie admitted, eyeing Chancellor. "If it's not too much to ask, where the _hell_ did you pull this case out of?"

"I'm… not sure what you mean" Chance said, unsure.

"You know! The whole 'Ms. Nook was threatening to blacklist Mr. Friday' thing! Where did you come up with that? I mean, looking back, I suppose you _could_ guess at something like that from the evidence but… I don't know, it just makes you seem a _lot_ Moore intelligent than you really are."

"Ooh! Ooh!" Ricky said, holding his hand up and waiting to be called on.

"Go ahead Ricky" nodded Cassie.

"Well, he used to do stuff like that all the time back at college" he teased with a big smile on his face. "The guys used to call it his 'womanly intuition'."

Chance slumped over. "I _hated_ college."

"Well, at least you had me to get you through it for two years, right?"

"Yeah, because that made it _so_ much better…"

**OBJECTION!**

"Hold it right there!" Cassie yelled. "Yesterday you claimed that the two of you were three years apart! If that were true, you only would have shared _one_ year of college together!"

"_A CLEAR CONTRADICTION! Whoever writes your dialogue is getting lazy!_"

Chance and Ricky stood silent for a minute. "He worked for a year before going to college." Ricky explained.

"And then I did one of those 3-3 law program things…" Chance concluded. "Yeah…"

Cassie's arm fell to her side, and she let it hang momentarily. "Oh… um… sorry…"

"Not as easy as it looks, is it?" Chance smiled.

"It looks terribly difficult, actually" Ricky admitted.

"Yeah, I know. Still."

-District Courthouse, Courtroom 5. 5/22. 5:06 pm.

"ORDEEEEEEEEEEEER UUUUUUUP!" yelled Scotty. "Let's get right down to business!"

"I'm shocked at you Scotty" Tanya joked. "Since when do we ever get right down to…"

"LIA'S! BIRTHDAY!" Scotty boomed. "Witness! Take the stand!"

Jaden Friday had arrived earlier than Scotty, had already been briefed, and was, in fact, already at the stand. He looked very professional. He wore a gray suit with a dark black tie, and his black hair was cut neatly, with only a few short bangs covering his face. His face remained calm and collected, as if saying to the world 'I'm an understanding person. Talk to me, we'll figure something out."

"Mr. Friday!" Scotty ordered. "Take the stand! Now!"

"I'm already here! Open your eyes, star head!" Friday snapped, the same look of calm and understanding remaining on his face.

"STAR HEAD?" Scotty yelled apprehensively, covering his five-pointed blonde hair with one hand. "_Now see here, Mr. Friday…_" he stopped. "You know… This is really inconvenient. I can't yell at you if I can't see you."

"Once again, open your eyes, star head! I'm right here!" the psychiatrist snarled with a perfectly calm face.

Chancellor raised his hand hesitantly. "Um… Mr. Friday? If I might make a suggestion… could you move out from behind the witness stand?"

"What makes you think I'll take orders from _you_, she-male?"

Chancellor flew back against the wall and slid down it slowly. "That… was uncalled for…"

"Oh, Mr. Friday?" came a cute voice from the other side of the room. Chancellor stood up, then immediately fell back down at what he saw. Tanya's dress has 'accidentally' become un-zippered in the back, and she was struggling with both hands to keep it from falling off. "Mr. Friday? If you'd be so kind as to zip me up?"

"Hot dog!" the witness gasped, and ran over to the prosecutor's bench. He jumped, jumped again, jumped a third time, and finally rested his hands on his knees. "I'm sorry, sweet cheeks" he apologized lustfully "but I just can't reach."

He was only three feet tall.

"Bailiff? Perhaps you can get the witness something to stand on?" Scotty requested.

"I don't need any stinking booster seat!" Friday said apprehensively. He walked to the witness stand, grabbed it with both hands, and hoisted himself up. "There" he said "can you see me now?"

"Why yes, thank you, Mr. Friday" Scotty nodded. "That's most helpful."

"Hey, solving problems is what I do best!" he declared. "I've even got a business card to that effect." He looked at Chancellor. "Pardon me for saying so, but you look like a likely candidate for psychiatric trouble." He whipped a card out. Forgetting that he was balancing on his arms, he immediately crashed to the floor. "Go on, take it, she-male," he said as he picked himself back up, "we can laugh this whole thing off later, provided you don't falsely convict me."

Friday's business card:

Friday's At-home Psychiatry

555-687-3377

610 Posheton Estates.

"Erm… thank you, Mr. Friday" Chancellor said, "but… I don't need a psychiatrist… I've kind of already seen one."

"You have?" Cassie asked, interested.

"Really?" Tanya, somewhat worried.

"NOT! IMPORTANT! RIGHT NOW!" Scotty bellowed. "Mr. Friday. Testify about your whereabouts on the day of the crime."

"You got it, star head," he said, faltering slightly on his arms.

"Let's see… the day of the crime was… the 20th? Am I right? I spent most of the day seeing patients… I've only got three or four that come to the house, business just started up after all. At around 5:00 I went to make a house-call…"

**Objection!**

"Everyone knows doctors don't make house calls!" yelled Cassie.

"_I_ do, but then, I'm just that kind of guy" Friday said smugly (smugness did not, of course, appear on his face). "Anyway, at around 5:00 I made a house call. I got home at 7:00 that night, I remember because my grandfather clock was chiming."

"And I suppose you can't give us the name of the patient who can _confirm_ this alibi," Chancellor challenged.

"Of course not," Friday explained, "doctor-patient confidentiality after all."

"Right" Chancellor nodded. "Of course."

Friday held up his hands in a 'what can you do' pose. He had forgotten again that they were the only thing standing between him and thin air, and he promptly fell down. "What can I do about it?" he asked rhetorically as he hauled himself up again. "It's the law, after all." He smiled an empty smile.

Scotty shifted uncomfortably in his chair; Friday's smile had caused his legs to act up again. "Chance? You can cross-examine now."

"Thank you, Scotty" Chancellor replied. He closed his eyes for a minute, thinking over his course of action. _I've got a feeling I won't get any second Chances from here on out… I've got to finish this, here and now._ "Mr. Friday, you live at 610 Posheton Estates, correct?"

"As the business card says, she-male" he replied calmly.

Chancellor's right eye twitched slightly, but he pressed on. "Which means the house right across from you is… 611?"

"609, actually" Friday corrected. "But I hardly see…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Mr. Moore, I hardly see how _where the witness lives_ has anything to do with this case!"

"But it does" Chancellor asserted. "Perhaps I'm the only one who pays attention to such things, but does _anyone_ here remember what number house Andre Ne Chrome lives in?" He held up a hand, sweeping it across the courtroom and stopping at random people. "You? You? You? Surely _you_ know, Mr. Ne Chrome."

Andre looked up from his novel. "I live… well, used… to live… at 609 Posheton estates…"

"Meaning that house across from you is…" Chancellor led.

"6…10…"

"Meaning that, this footage that so _conveniently_ gives an 'across the street' view of Mr. Ne Chrome's house…"

"_Was taken by a camera mounted on Mr. _Friday's_ house!"_

"Yes, well _I_ could have told you that" Friday tutted precociously. "_I_ was the one whose house the police barged into so rudely and whose security tape they so brashly absconded with!"

"That's nice, Mr. Friday" Chancellor said quickly. "But my main point here isn't really where the tape came from… it's where are _you_ on the tape?"

"Um… beg pardon?" Friday said, his voice shivering by only the tiniest fraction.

"You claim you arrived home at around 7:00, correct? However, this tape doesn't show anyone driving by until the police arrived!"

"_If you were where you claimed to be, you would be seen on this tape, entering your own home!_"

"Grrgh?" Friday grrghed.

……… _Grrgh?_

"Yes, well… hm! That's very interesting now, isn't it?" Friday laughed. "You're absolutely right… why _aren't_ I on that tape?"

"Well, it's a pretty simple reason, I would think" Chance jumped in. "You weren't there because…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"You're not about to say 'Mr. Friday isn't on the tape because he was at the plant, are you?'" Tanya objected. "Because one, that's leading the witness, and two, Mr. Friday _couldn't_ have gone to the plant that day!"

"I couldn't have?" asked Friday. "Oh! Yes, of course I couldn't have! Because… of…um… the…" Tanya stared at him, unsure whether to help or not. As it turned out, she didn't have to.

"… The security system?" Chancellor suggested. Cassie slapped him hard.

A light bulb went off in Friday's mind. "Ah yes! That's right! You see, Mr. Streng makes a strict rule of only letting employees have key cards!" He nodded, smiling an empty smile. "I had my key card stripped of me when I was fired, so there's no way I could get in!"

Chancellor slumped over. _Me and my big mouth. I think I should make a new strict personal policy… 'Don't help people, ever'. Yeah. _That's_ a Christian attitude._ "Scotty? You did see how obvious it is that he's making that up, right?" he asked hopefully.

"Of course I did" Scotty nodded. "Not that I can do anything about it, though. You're going nowhere if you can't show halfway decent evidence that Friday could get into the plant."

"Which you _can't_," Tanya said firmly. "Mr. Friday could not have made his way into the plant, therefore he _could not_ be Ms. Nook's killer!" _At least I hope he can't be. I'd feel like such an idiot if it turned out he could…_

**OBJECTION!**

_СУКА!_ There is no need here to translate the word 'СУКА', as it would have to be censored out anyway.

"It's not decisive evidence by far" Chancellor validated, "but coupled with the witness' incredible uncertainty, I'm sure it will suffice, Scotty." Chancellor slammed his desk hard with one hand. "Ok people! Pop quiz!" He pointed at a bearded man in the audience. "Were you here yesterday?"

"Well… yes… but…" the man stuttered.

"Do you remember, by Chance, what Ms. Nook's body was wrapped in to minimize blood staining?"

"Erm… well" the man stroked his beard. "I believe it was a… suit, wasn't it? Like a HAZMAT suit?"

"Ding, Ding! Correct! 10 points!" Chancellor congratulated. "But not just _any_ HAZMAT suit…" he paused for effect. "A _child-sized_ HAZMAT suit." He smiled, full of satisfaction. "I've been wondering why, if Mr. Ne' Chrome was truly the murderer, was the first thing nearby a child's HAZMAT suit." He shook his head. "If the murder occurred in his office, the closest suit nearby would be in _his_ size, wouldn't you think? The only way I can make sense of Ms. Nook's body being in a child-sized suit…"

"_Is Mr. Friday wearing his _own_ suit to infiltrate the plant, and then stuffing the body into it!"_

"Grrgh?"grrghed Friday.

_Yup, nailed it._

"Mr. Friday?" Chancellor asked.

"What?" he snapped, his face remaining calm. "So I'm short, does that make me the killer, she-male? You got something against short people? Maybe you have Dwarvaphobia?" Friday tutted. "Mr. Moore, you really shouldn't let personal prejudice control your behavior at work."

"I'm not!" Chancellor retaliated. "Your height is a crucial piece of this case! It's why Ms. Nook's 'body bag' was a child's size! It's why you were able to sneak past Ms. Scrubbs to hide the weapon, it enabled you to fit in the trunk alongside Ms. Nook's body, and it allowed you to hide, unseen, until the police left the house!"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Ooh, Mr. Moore, don't get too excited over there" Tanya cooed. "Your saying these things as if they were actual facts, but…" she wagged a finger. "You naughty boy, you, you haven't proven a thing! While the facts you have stated are _possible_ because of Mr. Friday's height, I think that you're forgetting one thing."

"What's that?" Chance asked.

"Mr. Fridays' height also makes it _impossible_ for him to have committed the crime!" Tanya stated.

"Wha… what?" Chancellor sputtered.

"You see, Mr. Moore, the height difference between Ms. Nook's neck and Mr. Friday's arms is three feet!" Tanya began. "Well, approximately at least, seeing that Mr. Friday is about three feet tall and Ms. Nook was a little over six. Now tell me, Mr. Moore, how can a man effectively wield a long scythe with such power to cut through a woman's throat in one go, when so much distance has to be covered just to make the connection?" She flicked her hair back, annoyed. "I'm not letting you out of this court until your tapestry is free of loose ends, understood?"

"Chancellor! Chancellor!" Cassie whispered, pulling on his arm. "I know this one! It's in my…"

"The answer is in this phone!" Chancellor yelled, whipping out Cassandra's Strawberry™. "There's a picture of a shoeprint on here that…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Mr. Moore! I'm sure you know that cell phone pictures are inadmissible as court evidence!"

"I'm not really presenting the photo as much as the idea _behind_ the photo. This footprint is on a ledge that runs the perimeter of Safeguard Nuclear! It's approximately three feet tall. If Mr. Friday were to climb up on top, then wait behind one of the pillars in the buildings infrastructure…" he slammed a hand down on his desk. "The murder could be committed just like that!"

"_IF! COULD! MIGHT!" _yelled Friday from the witness stand, his face staying exactly the same. "All you have right now is a bunch of hypotheses with no real evidence!" He smiled another empty smile. "Perhaps you're narcissistic, and make these accusations to draw attention to yourself? Or perhaps you have an inferiority complex and you cope by sending people to jail?"

"I'm perfectly normal, thank you" Chance defended.

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Chancellor, I'm sorry, but to lie like that on court…" Tanya began.

"Tanya! Not helping!" Chance bristled.

"Sorry" she apologized. "But he does make a valid point. While you make a pretty convincing case, your evidence is a bit… _nonexistent_." She looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "And unless you figure out something quick, your client will be found guilty… regardless of what you've done."

"Yeah, what sweet cheeks said!" Friday taunted.

"Mr. Moore?" Scotty asked, praying to God that Chancellor had an answer and he wouldn't be an hour and a half late to Lia's party for nothing, "do you have anything that can _prove_ Mr. Friday is connected in all this?"

"I'm going to need that scythe, Tanya" Chance said suddenly.

"Huh?" Cassie asked.

"What?" Tanya reacted.

"Tha-t's… that's so obviously the wrong answer I have to see how this turns out," Scotty stammered.

Chancellor just smiled. He took the scythe gingerly from Tanya, and then showed it to Mr. Friday. "Mr. Friday, do you recognize this scythe?"

"Yes" he nodded. "It used to hang on Mr. Ne' Chrome's office all the time."

"Have you ever used this scythe?"

"No, I can't say I… ow!"

The courtroom went into hustle and bustle. Friday's arms had finally given way, and he had fallen to the ground. He patted the side of his face, a tiny cut had been made by the scythe.

"Ack! Sorry about that!" Chancellor said, grabbing for a tissue in his pocket. "Here…" he placed the tissue on Friday's wound, holding it there until the bleeding went down.

"No, please, don't worry about it" Friday smiled emptily. "Completely my fault, rest assured."

"You're sure? Because I mean…" Chancellor said worriedly.

"No, no" Friday waved off. "Don't think anything of it."

"Alright then" Chancellor nodded. He walked back towards his desk, than whirled around and slammed the bloody tissue down. "Your honor, I request that the blood on this tissue be tested and compared to the unidentified blood stains in the trunk of Mr. Ne' Chrome's car!" He pointed at Friday. "If the match is conclusive, it shows that Mr. Friday was, indeed there, and the only reason he could _possibly_ have to have been there is if he were hiding with the body!"

"_GRRRRRRGH!" _Friday yelled, his face showing every minute detail of defeat and agony. The courtroom went crazy. Scotty pounded his gavel, calling for order. Cassie gave whoops of triumph, while Tanya just leaned back against the wall and sighed.

To make a long story short:

NOT GUILTY

District Courthouse, Defendant's Lobby 3. 5/22. 6:13 pm.

"VICTORY SCREECH!!" yelled Ricky as Chance, Cassie, and Chrome entered the lobby.

"OLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOOO!" they screamed. Cassie picked up on what was happening within five seconds, and even Andre gave a half-hearted 'ol…olo…lol…olol..."

"I… don't understand…" Andre warbled after the screech died down. "We had a case… you did such a good…job… (sniff)… why… why am I not guilty?"

Chancellor though about explaining the principle of 'logic' to Andre, but decided not to. He clapped the exceedingly creepy man on the shoulder. "Well, we just got lucky I guess" he laughed.

"_Andyyyyyyyyy_" came a motherly call from the hall (heh. Rhymes). Christine Scrubbs trudged into the defendant's lobby. "Andy, honey, you look so _scrawny!_" Andre started to speak to her, but… "Ah! Don't say anything honey, I've got just what you need" she reached into a pocket, pulling out volume II of the Tales of the Crypt Graphic Novel series. "I figured you'd about finished the first one by now, so I went out…" she reached into a large pocket, pulling out a collection of five novels. "And bought the whole rest of the series!" She frowned. "Sorry about suspecting you, Andy, hon."

Andre was moved to tears. His mouth flapped open and shut, but no words came out. Ms. Scrubbs shushed him, wrapped him in her arms and led him out the door, presumably to 'put some skin on those narrow bones'.

Chancellor looked after them. "Your dad has weird friends, you know that?" he asked Cassie.

"Yeah… well my dad _is _kind of a weird person…" she admitted.

"Cassandra!" came a man's voice from the hallway. "Cassandra! It's time to go home! Your teachers aren't going to allow you to miss another day of school!"

"In a minute, daddy!" she yelled back. She smiled at Chancellor. "Speak of the devil, huh?"

"Any Chance I get to meet him?" Chancellor asked.

Cassie frowned. "Chance, haven't you learned _anything?_ I _can't_ let you meet him because…"

Chancellor laughed. "Right, of course. About that…" he lowered his voice. "You… you do know that this is all really happening, right?"

"Yeah" Cassie admitted. "But I don't know… the real world is so… boring." She looked up at Chance. "You can't blame me for spicing it up by treating it like a book, now can you?"

"Well, of course I can" Chancellor said. Cassie began to rave, but he laughed her off. "But I won't. Don't worry." He stretched his arms out, letting out a brief yawn. "So then, see you tomorrow?"

"About that…" Cassie began. "I can't really… do this anymore, Chancellor. I still have to go to school, plus you know how daddy feels about attorneys…" She smiled. "But so what? I bet that's a relief to hear, huh?"

Chancellor froze for a minute. _Wait. What? Seriously? She's not… I thought…_ "HA!" Chancellor laughed it off. "Yeah, I suppose it is." Ricky gave him an odd look, but didn't say anything. He smiled at her warmly. "Though I will admit," he said softly. "You're a lot more tolerable than I ever gave you credit for."

"Thanks" Cassie said. "And thanks for being ok with the whole… 'I'm going to follow you around for a while'… thing…"

Chance nodded. "It certainly made things a bit Moore interesting."

"Yeah…" Cassie said. They stood there, silent for a moment. "Well, I have to go… bye, Chance." She ran off, turned at the doorway to wave, and then ran down the hallway.

Chancellor let out a long sigh, and stared out the door for a minute. Ricky hesitated, than clapped him on the back. "It'll be alright man" he assured him.

"I hope you stare that long and lustfully when I leave a room," came a voice from the hallway. Tanya Krasivaya waltzed in, a playful smile on her face. Ricky, who had always considered himself an intelligent person, knew that it was his time to go.

"Lustfully?" Chance laughed, steeping towards the Russian. "Don't make me laugh. It's just…" he struggled for a moment, trying to find the right words. "She was like… the little sister I never had." He sighed again. "I'm going to miss that."

"Oh… cheer up, Chancellor" Tanya said, slowly lifting his chin up in one hand. She brought him close, running the other hand down his chest, and whispered in his ear. "I know something we can do… that will make you feel _much_ better."

Chancellor's heartbeat quickened. If he was thinking what she was thinking… "Lead the way, beautiful" he whispered back. She grabbed his hand, and they were gone.

-?? 5/22. 8:00 pm.

"Oh, good gravy!"

"I knew you'd like it."

"But Tanya, Tanya, this is… good gravy, this is too much!"

Chancellor let out another cry of pleasure, and then squeezed a stuffed cow close to his chest. "You don't know how long I've wanted my own 'Dairy Mason' doll!"

Tanya, of course, had taken him to Create-A-Cow workshop. What did you think?

"A twenty-four year old man that plays with dolls" Tanya commented, shaking her head. "Honestly, Chancellor, how do you expect people to take you seriously?"

"I've never expected _anyone_ to take me seriously, and I highly doubt anyone _ever will_" Chancellor replied. "Which means I never, ever, _ever_ have to grow up."

Tanya held her head in migraine. "Please do, for my sake, I'd feel a bit awkward dating a little boy."

Chancellor laughed, and then kissed her. "Alright, but it might take a bit Moore time… I've only been around for ten years after all." He looked up at the ceiling. "It's amazing I've matured this much actually…" He caught an image of his face in a mirror on the store's ceiling. He walked up to the counter. "Can I get another doll that looks like this?" he asked, holding up Dairy Mason.

"Of course" said the counter girl. She quickly went over to a Creation Station and began outfitting a doll.

"Why another one?" Tanya asked curiously.

"Nothing" Chance smiled. "Just a gift."

-Cassandra's House. 5/28. 2:00 pm.

"Mail call!" came a man's voice from the front door. "Cassandra! It looks like there's a package for you!"

"Is it a mail bomb?" Cassie asked as she slid down the banister.

Her father held the package up to her ear, shook it furiously, and then gave it to her. "No, I don't think so" he said.

"Oh man…" Cassie grumbled. "That sure would have made things interesting around here…" Despite her disappointment, she quickly tore open the package. She gasped, and then slowly lifted a cow doll made up to look like a lawyer from the parcel.

_To the best (and, yes, only) assistant I've ever had,_

_Happy Birthday! Best of luck in finding a decent college, and I hope you have a great summer!_

_Chance._

She hugged the doll tight. "Just what I wanted."

End: The Giant, Radioactive Turnabout.

Author's note corner: (if you're only here for the story, stop here).

Character In-depth: Cassandra.

Yes, even a story as original (coughcough) as this has to have a stereotypical, little-sister type assistant character. I kind of sort of based her off of the Cassandra from Soul Calibur… but, very roughly (she's blond, she's named Cassandra… yup, that's pretty rough). One of the reasons I made her blonde is because (check this if you want) there _aren't_ any blonde women in Ace Attorney! Seriously, look. _None._

Questions Never Asked… answered anyway.

Um… hi, it's me again. About Cassie… : Stop right there. I know she's 18 now, and so I don't _really_ have to keep that information under wraps… but c'mon! She's the story's 'little sister' character! You do _not_ give sizes for the little sister character!

Middle name! Now! : (sigh). You again. You don't even know her _last_ name, and you want a middle name? You know what? Fine. It's Haruhi, as in 'The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya'. Chosen because Cassie finds the real world boring/hard, and wants to treat it like some sort of story.

If Cassie is Haruhi, then who fills out the rest of the brigade? : You… seriously want me to answer that? Well… there are six story-worthy attorneys at Thenue and Noble, so five of them are the brigade. Cassie, seeing as she's not part of the firm, wouldn't actually be Haruhi… that'd have to be Chancellor. Thenue would, of course, be Kyon, seeing as he's the one being dragged into it kicking and scream… I just answered that question. Good gravy, what's _wrong_ with me?

A lot: _That wasn't a question!_

Is Cassie coming back in the next chapter? : Eh? What gives you the right to assume there's a next chapter?

And of course… favorite song! : It's a two-way tie between 'I Need a Hero' from Footloose and the theme music from Legend of Zelda. This is one girl who wants to be swept off her feet.

Scotland Domino:

As said earlier, the character's name was born out of an obsession with the song 'Scotty doesn't know'. I designed him to be completely different from the stereotypical judge; therefore, he's a young blond man who can't stand procedure? How'd this guy ever get elected? Ah… well that's a story for another day. If there is another day.

He's married? I thought he was Chancellor's age? : He's young, but not _that_ young. Scotty just turned thirty. He met his wife Lia (Australia) in college, and married her at age 25. He also has a two-year old daughter named Georgia!

They're all… they're all named after countries, huh? : … yeah. And because of the severe lack of country names that can be converted into people names, he has no other family worth writing about. None! Don't ask!

… Star head? : Yeah… I suppose I've never really explained this very well in the story… Scotty's hairstyle is… unigue. He wears his blond hair in five equal-sized points, one that drapes over his face like bangs, two that cover each ear, and two that frame the back of his neck. When viewed from above, his hair would look like a yellow star.

Middle name? : Wales. Self-explanatory.

Favorite song? : What do you think? It's 'Jet Airliner' by the Steve Miller Band!

Fun fact! : 687-3377, when converted to letters, spells out 'Murders'.

Learn Russian!

СУКА: (Pronounced 'sook-a'). You really want to know, huh? It means 'female dog', if you get my drift. But… it's also just the word for dog.

**СОВЕРШЕННО ВЕРНО: (Pronounced 'sov-ehr-shen-na vyer-na): 'Absolutely correct'**

МОЖНО ИДТИ В ТУАЛЕТ?: (Pronounced 'mojh-na E.T. v to-ahl-yet): Your first complete sentence! (Sniff) I'm… I'm so proud! МОЖНО means 'May I', ИДТИ is the infinitive 'to go', B means 'in' or 'to' and ТУАЛЕТ means… toilet. This is how to ask 'May I go to the bathroom?'

-

Peace out all.


	8. Turnabout of the Ancient Mariner

Morage Thenue slumped back in his chair, and sighed

Morage Thenue slumped back in his plush office chair and sighed. "Well, we did it. We got a couple of laughs, a few devoted fans, and one heck of a story behind us." He stretched his arms behind his neck. "Now it's time to just sit back and…"

Chancellor burst into the office. "Sir? You might want to take a look at this." He handed Morage a sheet of paper.

Morage looked over the paper curiously, and his face turned beet red. "_What do you mean our contract's been _forcibly renewed?"

_"Alright people!_" Skyler yelled. "_New disclaimer coming up in 5! 4! 3! 2!_"

Disclaimer:

I could never hope to!

I could never hope to own yooooooooooooou!

Could never hope to own you!

Never own Ace Attorney or Capcom

Throw all your hands up, NO!

Could never own you!

Amaxing Fan Fiction Inc. proudly presents…

Chancellor Moore

Turnabout of the Ancient Mariner

It had been two months since the Ne' Chrome case, and Chancellor Moore's life couldn't be going better. His office was packed with clients, Morage was so pleased with the financial revenue that he had stopped constantly railing on Chancellor, his local sweet shop was giving him _free_ chocolate covered strawberries after helping out their owner, and, above all, he was dating Tanya Krasivaya.

That being said, no relationship was without its problems.

District Courthouse. 7/3.

NOT GUILTY

It was yet another win for Chancellor, and yet another loss for the not so long ago widely feared Krasivaya. For some reason, the prosecutor's office had decided to assign her to practically every case Chancellor handled, and things were shaping up to be… not so good.

"It's not because of the win/loss record" Tanya reassured him after he had shown concern, "you know I could care less about that. It's just… whenever I'm in there… I don't know…" she paused. "I just get this growing, all-encompassing… hatred towards you…" Tears sprung up in her eyes (that had been happening a lot lately). "I just can't stand it! I loathe myself for hating you so easily!"

"Tanya, Tanya, _please_" Chancellor said softly, trying to calm her down. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times… I don't really care if you honestly want to _kill_ me while we're in that courtroom. It only means you're doing your job right." He picked her chin up and kissed her softly. "And what's wrong with that? I only really care about the you _outside_ the court anyway."

Tanya smiled, but Chancellor knew deep down that nothing he said helped.

"Perhaps we should consider couples' counseling?" he queried.

"I don't know, she-male" Jaden Friday replied from behind the glass screen at the detention center. "I think our relationship is just peachy-keen right about now… wait, why are you even _asking _me? Why on _earth_ do you think I'd help you? Ask someone else!" As always, his face showed no sign that he was angry.

"I have" Chancellor admitted. "But I wanted a professional opinion and… let's just say going to see my _old_ psychiatrist would probably mean having to go back to therapy again. He's pretty big into that kind of thing."

Friday sighed. "Whom have you asked other than me?" he said in a resigned tone of voice.

"Well, I asked Ricky, my best friend…"

"And?"

"And he told me that suggesting to Tanya that we need counseling would only throw gas on the fire."

"He could be right, you know" Friday nodded. "Sometimes, suggesting there's a problem to someone who needs to feel secure in a relationship makes a mild hitch an unsalvageable… wait a minute!" He slammed the glass pane with his fist. "Why am I even giving you advice? I _hate_ you!"

"Because I'm pretty?" Chancellor smiled hopefully. "Oh so pretty?"

Friday shivered from head to toe and left the room.

Romantic issues aside, however, Chancellor Moore was on the fast track to a prosperous life, and today would be no different.

"Hey, Moore" Morage Thenue barked in a gruff voice.

"Yes, oh dear old boss o' mine?" Chancellor cooed back.

"Don't coo" Morage said, squinting hard. "You _know_ I hate cooing."

"The better to annoy you with, oh dear old boss o' mine" Chance cooed.

Morage gave a deep sigh, and decided, just this once, to get over it. "Cooing aside, Moore, there's something we need to talk about."

"All ears" Chance smiled.

"You know Mr. Crypt, right?" Morage asked.

"Crypt… Crypt…" a light bulb went off. "Old Casaubon Crypt! Sure I remember him, he was my mentor when I interned here! How's he doing?"

"He retired last night" Morage replied.

Chancellor whistled. "Nice. Old enough to live the easy life now…" he stopped. "Hey wait a minute… he was 29 when I last interned… he'd only be like 30, 31 now! How the heck did he retire this early?"

"He was driving drunk and got t-boned by an eighteen wheeler," Morage said curtly.

"Ah" Chancellor uttered. "That… that would do it, yeah." He hung his head forward. "Poor guy… all that time ahead of him…"

"Yes, it _is_ quite tragic… and not just because of his loss of life" Morage nodded solemnly. "You see, Mr. Crypt was a junior partner here at the firm, and because of his death… that slot is now open, and… unfortunately… you're a candidate for the position."

Chancellor's head snapped up. "I am?" he exclaimed. "How…wow, that's great! Even though I've only been here for a couple of months?"

"I was one-hundred percent against it, of course" Morage commented. "But Mr. Noble and Ms. Aegis were adamant that you be included." He shook his head. "Sad fools, the lot of them. Either way, you'll be required to attend the firm's annual fancy-schmansy 'gala' thing tonight on Mr. Noble's ocean liner." He shook his head again. "It's nothing important really; you'll have to talk to some people, shake a few hands, impress a few critics… that kind of thing." He looked Chancellor straight in the eye. "It's at _6:00_, so don't be late ok?" He leaned in even closer. "_SIX! O' CLOCK!_"

"Mr. Thenue, please, calm down" Chance assured, backing away warily. I'll be there at six, don't worry!"

S. S. Noble. 7/10. 6:45 pm.

"Mr. Thenue!" Chancellor yelled as he approached the older man waiting for him at the ship's boarding platform. "I'm so sorry I'm late, my car wouldn't start, there was traffic, the store ran out of chocolate covered strawberries so I had to drive to the grocery store and buy chocolate and strawberries _separately_, and…"

"You're not late" Morage said with a small grin. "You're a quarter of an hour early."

"B-B-But…" Chancellor stuttered, mouth agape. "You said… 6:00…"

"Oho!" came a deep voice from behind them. A middle aged, white haired, mustached, and stubble-faced man of above average height and slightly rotund stature stood before them, laughing heartily. "He set your clocks early, boy, 'cause he _knows_ you're always late!" He laughed again, clutching the sides of his silver vest, which lay over a black dress shirt.

"Eh?" Chancellor reacted. _I've… heard that somewhere before…_

The man looked up at the sky, took a deep breath, and let it out. "Dark, sacred night. And I think to myself" he sighed. "What a wonderful world."

Chancellor's eyes bugged out. "Ok, that's it!" he began to yell, "What the _heck_ is…"

"I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Jacopo Noble!" Thenue quickly interrupted.

"That's nice" Chancellor replied, "but that still doesn't mean…"

"_Noble_."

"Mr. Noble!" Chancellor cried, a giant smile lighting up his face. "How are you sir? Oh, it's an _honor_ to meet you, it really is. Thank you _so_ much for considering me for the position, and I have to say, that's quite an out of this world speech pattern you've got there!" Chancellor's smile never faded during any of this, meaning that he was, quite literally, lying through his teeth.

Noble gave a slight chuckle. "_You're_ the one who's out of this world, sweet baby" he flirted, taking Chancellor's hand and bending down to kiss it.

"Jack, I'd like you to meet that attorney I was telling you about, Chancellor Moore." As he said this, he couldn't help but smile thinking of the reaction Noble would have.

Jack did not disappoint. He stopped mid-kiss, lurched his body upwards and stumbled back a few steps. "That… that… dude looks like a lady!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, he does, Jack" Morage said as if talking to a toddler. "I told you earlier, remember? Forgetting things _again_ now, are we?" He laughed, patting Mr. Noble on the back. "You're turning senile, you old coot. Maybe it's time to retire, huh?"

"I confess, I messed up, drop it, I'm sorry!" Noble laughed, punching Thenue playfully in the gut. He backed up, addressing both lawyers. "I'd love to stay longer, but I've got to help Kenny with the preparations; you understand."  
Chance leaned over and whispered in Morage's ear. _Which song was that from?_ Morage batted him away.

"Well!" Noble exclaimed, making a gesture towards the ship. "Off we go, into the wild blue yonder!" He laughed heartily, and then climbed the walkway onto the deck.

Morage gave a large sigh. "I'm the _only_ normal person on this boat, you know that Chance?" he asked, voice full of self-pity.

"Wouldn't that make _you_ the weird one?" Chance shot back.

A vein in Morage's head appeared, and he pointed at Chancellor strongly. "I should dock your pay for that…" he grumbled as the two of them boarded the ship.

A string ensemble played in the background, and all the guests were dressed in their best attire. Attorneys, police officers, prosecutors, and other law figures from across the region had all been invited, and chatted amongst each other like old acquaintances (as many of them actually were). Chancellor strained his head, looking for Tanya, but Morage nudged him with his elbow.

"Don't bother," he explained. "She has a case right now. Didn't you know?"

_I probably did, _Chance thought, _but I haven't seen my reflection yet, so I can't be sure._ As tempting as it was, he resisted looking down into his chain. (Yes, regardless of how formal an event this was, Chancellor's outfit remained exactly the same.)

It didn't take long before the greeting, hand shaking, and idle chitchat began. Chancellor was led from employee to employee until he found himself in a circle with the three senior partners of the firm, Mr. Thenue, Mr. Noble, and Ms. Aegis. _So the competition begins, huh?_ Chancellor thought.

-Flashback-

"While we're there," Morage explained to Chance, "something's going to happen that I can't really explain any better than calling it a… _protégé showcase._"

"Oro?" asked the man with a woman's face.

"The three senior partners will gather around and introduce the employee that they think is best suited for the position. Though it's a bit unfair this year because, despite how I really feel, I'm still presenting you."

"Oh, come on" Chancellor joked. "You know deep down I'm the best you've got right?" Morage just stared at him.

"We are not amused," the gray haired man stated.

-End Flashback-

"Well, I suppose I might as well go first…" Morage grumbled. He tilted his head slightly in Chancellor's direction. "Chancellor Moore. He's irresponsible, scatter-brained, generally clueless about his surroundings…"

Chancellor laughed nervously. _Way to point out my better qualities Mr. Thenue…_

"He's ridiculously unprofessional, stubborn, disrespectful…"

_True, true, VERY true, when referring to you anyway… _

"… and yet somehow, through some miraculous form of divine intervention, he has never lost a case, and is currently considered among the best attorneys in Boston." Morage shrugged. "Go figure, right?"

Noble laughed heartily, and Aegis extended a hand, half in greeting, half in comfort. "Don't mind him, Chance" she assured him warmly. "He's never _exactly_ been the most caring or pleasant individual in the tri-state area."

Ms. Aegis, on the other hand, was exactly the opposite. Despite being in her early forties, her skin lacked wrinkles, her brown hair still shone brightly, and her considerably easy-to-look-at figure hadn't faded since her twenties. She wore a light blue, shimmering dress that gave a certain aura of comfort and wisdom. "Athena Aphrodite Aegis" she smiled, shaking Chancellor's hand. "But you can call me Triple A."

"Seriously?" Chancellor chuckled.

"Seriously," nodded Aegis. "I've always felt that nicknames are a little Moore personal than full, proper names… wouldn't you agree, Chance?"

"Well…" Chance laughed. "Honestly, I've never given much thought to the subject."

Noble interrupted with a laugh. "You've been turning on me all night long, now it's my turn!" he said. "Triple A, dear, I think you'll find this one _particularly_ interesting." He cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentleman, may I have your attention puhleeeeeease! Introducing Ms. Alexis Lexington!" He moved slightly to the right, bringing Alexis into view.

There stood before the circle an amazingly beautiful girl (then again it's a story, so what did you expect?). She was on the shorter side, with brilliant brown hair, a radiantly tan complexion, and… was extremely well endowed in all departments.

Aegis did a double take. It was like looking at herself twenty years ago.

Chancellor did a double take. For a second there, he had actually thought her more beautiful then Tanya. Thankfully, the Russian people have not yet mastered the principle of reading minds, particularly when the subject is a good five miles away.

"Hi there, everyone!" she said cheerily. "Alexis Lexicon Lexington, but you can call me…" she placed a finger on her lips, "Triplex."

_Oh, good gravy… God, why must you tempt me like this? _Noble beamed at his chosen attorney, and began to brag.

"Triplex here graduated top of the class at Harvard law school, and is also working towards a degree in foreign justice systems!" He placed a hand on her shoulder. "She's won multiple cases in Massachusetts Supreme Court, and her district court record is nothing to sneeze at either!"

"What can I say?" Alexis shrugged, beaming back up at Noble. "I'm quite terrific, excellent, superb, and fantastic."

_… Don't those all mean the same thing? And bravo on being humble, by the way._

"Ah!" Aegis said, snapping out of her reminiscence. "There he is now! Ben! Come over here and introduce yourself, Ben!"

A young man very close to Chancellor's age walked into the circle, taking extra care not to bump into anyone. He was clothed entirely in yellow, and his black hair was ruffled up in such a way that it resembled a crown. "Hello everyone" he said politely. "The name is Benvolio Paraclete." He bent down and kissed Alexis on the hand. "It is a pleasure to meet all of you." He took Chancellor's hand.

_Ack! Not _again! "It's nice to meet you, too" Chancellor said, in as masculine a voice as possible (yeah, still not very deep). "My name's Chancellor Moore."

Ben's eyes widened a little, but he maintained his composure. "I am assuming…" he began, looking at Aegis for confirmation "that Chancellor is a man's name in this country as well?" Aegis nodded, and Ben gave a small smile. "What a shame. Such beauty is wasted on you, monsieur."

"Chance is fine" Chancellor said with a small wave of the hand. "And, um, thank you… for the compliment, I suppose, Benjamin."

"It is _Benvolio_" Ben corrected patiently. "But do not worry about that. We are sure to become good friends, no?" He held out his hand to Chancellor, who gladly took it and shook.

"I was traveling in France about two years back," Aegis explained. "I crossed over to Andorra to visit one of their summer resorts, when I ran into Ben here!" She smiled warmly at him. "Lived in Andorra his entire life, yet spoke perfect English and had a complete understanding of our justice system! He passed the bar exam on his first try, without ever looking at a law textbook. A true prodigy, this one."

"You are too kind, mademoiselle Aegis" Ben said gratefully.

"Oh, Ben!" Aegis said. "You're too modest! Why if another attorney in this town had _half_ your talent, they'd be…"

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!" came a gruff bark from behind them. The group turned around suddenly, just in time to see Tracy Spade rush up to them, a young man wearing a hard hat in tow. "I'm not… I didn't… miss the protégé-off, did I?"

"We'd just gotten to the last one, actually" Chance explained.

"Thanks, lady" Spade thanked through heavy breathing.

"_Detective Spade!_"

Spade let out a long sigh. "I'm sorry Chancellor, I really am, but…" He straightened up. "Well, you've heard my excuse at least a dozen times, I'm sure I don't have to repeat myself." Chancellor nodded, and Spade smiled broadly. "Anyway, I wanted to make sure I got here in time to present…" He threw his voice, making it sound like 'da-dadada-da-da-daaaaaaaaaa!' was coming from above them. "Zak Newton! The force's brightest new detective!"

"Damn straight!" Zak agreed. He was a tall, muscular man, with dark black, bristly hair and skin the exact color of cocoa. "And before you ask, for all you Scrubs fanatics out there" he eyed up the crowd quickly. "_You_" he pointed at Alexis, "are the only one allowed to call me 'Chocolate Bear'."

Chancellor raised his hand. "Can I call you Cocoa Bear?"

"No." Zak shook his head, causing his hard hat to shift back and forth slightly.

"Um… excuse me, monsieur?" Ben asked uneasily. "If it is not too much to ask… why is it that you're wearing that… hat?"

"I never explain why" Zak replied. "But only because you'll all realize it…" Before he could say 'soon enough', there was a sound of shattering glass, and the occupants of the circle were cascaded with small glass shards and drops of wine. Thankfully, no one was hurt.

"I'm sorry!" called a woman from the upper deck; who was, in fact, the environmental activist from chapter six. "It was sitting on the balcony and…"

"It's alright" Zak waved, dabbing wine off of his uniform, "happens all the time." He brushed pieces of glass off his hat, and flashed a wide smile. "Incidentally? I'm deathly afraid of pianos."

"You're not afraid of pianists, are you?" Ben asked, worried. "Because if you are, then I'm afraid…"

Zak laughed. "As long as they aren't above me, they're alright" he said, clapping Ben on the back. Ben grunted softly. Zak was a pretty strong guy.

"Well!" Morage grumbled. "Now that we've gotten all the introductions aside, can we pick someone already?"

Noble laughed. "Take your time… and take mine too!"

"Yeah, Grumbles" Aegis teased, "let's just enjoy the party first!" She smiled. "That's what Barry would do, right?"

Morage winced. "Well…" he growled. "I suppose if he were here… than yes… he would…" He slumped over further. "Didn't have to mention him though," he grumbled.

Noble shook his head, as if remembering something. "Shot through the heart…" he looked up at Morage. "And _you're_ to blame…"

Morage winced again. "Don't remind me…" he muttered, staring at Noble.

"Guys…" Aegis said warily. "Perhaps this isn't the best place to…"

"Oh, I'm sorry… don't want to argue in front of the children, do we?" Morage said caustically. "Fine." He pointed towards a door on the upper deck. "Noble's room. _Now._" The three of them left, voices escalating until they finally slammed the door behind them.

The other five just stared after them. Spade sighed. "Even after all this time…" he shook his head, and headed off towards the wine bar, Zak in tow.

"Strange, odd, out of the ordinary, bizarre…" Alexis mused to herself. "I've never seen Mr. Noble start a fight like that…"

"Perhaps he's not as noble as we thought?" Chance offered.

Ben chuckled to himself. Alexis shot him a look, and he coughed to cover it up and said. "Well… that… that just wasn't funny, monsieur" he stammered.

"Yeah, he _does_ that sometimes" came an angry voice from behind them. "The whole _not being funny_ thing."

Chancellor snapped to attention at the sound of the voice. _Good gravy, why?_

-

Author's note corner (Those of you just reading for the story, stop here):

For starters, I never at any time said I was ending the story. So no, I'm _not_ a liar. I'm just very good at misdirection, right? Right?

Yes, of course, you want your precious features. Fine.

Name Origins:

Jaden Friday: I said earlier that his name comes from 'Schadenfreude', but I never actually explained what that meant. Basically, when we see certain people suffer or have pain (it varies from person to person), our brain releases a chemical that makes us feel good. That psychological process is known as Schadenfreude, which translates from German as 'damage joy'.

Jacopo Noble: Um… how can I say this… his name doesn't actually come from _anything_. I suppose he _could_ be considered noble for a lawyer… but I never really thought about it. He's always been Jack Noble, and that's it.

Zak Newton: From famous physicist Isaac Newton, who supposedly discovered gravity by having an apple fall on his head.

Athena Aphrodite Aegis: Athena is the Greek god of wisdom, Aphrodite is the Greek god of beauty, and Aegis is Latin for 'shield'. So, basically, she's a wise, beautiful defense attorney.

Benvolio Paraclete: 'Benvolio' comes from 'benevolent' because he's such a nice guy, and 'Paraclete' means 'guardian', so it's another defense attorney pun.

Alexis Lexicon Lexington: Named for the sole purpose of having a character called 'Triplex'. Further character development to come.

Character In-depth: Jaden Friday

Well, he's getting his own 'in-depth' section, so I _suppose_ he'll be a regular character from now on…

I really don't even know what he's doing back. I was writing the beginning, I write the line 'Do you think we should consider couples' counseling?' and then I'm like… he can't say that to Tanya… I know! Let's switch over to Friday! Yeah…

Don't you think it was a bit unfair springing him on us at the last chapter like that? : No, I don't. There was _plenty_ of evidence pointing to him; there was no need for you to actually _meet_ the guy. Complain if you will, but I stand by it.

Do you have something against short people? : Not in the slightest. A lot of my friends are short; in fact, one of them serves as a visual inspiration for Friday.

What's his height? Is he _exactly_ three feet tall? : Exactly.

What's his middle name? : … Do you _seriously_ think I have enough free time to come up with middle names for _every_ character? Honestly!

What is it? : Sigmund…

Favorite song? : 'Living la Vida Loca' by Ricky Martin. Even killers can listen to good music, you know.

Learn Russian! :

You know you love it.

СЕГОДНЯ ДЕНЬ НЕДЕЛИ? (sev-awd-nuh dyen nee-dyel-ee): What day of the week is it? СЕГОДНЯ is 'today', ДЕНЬ is 'day' and НЕДЕЛЯ is 'week'. It's written НЕДЕЛИ in the phrase because it's in the 'genitive case', and it means 'of the week'.

ПОНЕДЕЛЬНИК (pon-ee-dyel-neek): Monday

ВТОРНИК (btor-neek): Tuesday

СРЕДА (sray-da): Wednesday

ЧЕТВЕРГ (chet-verg): Thursday

ПЯТНИЦА (pyat-neet-sa): Friday

ПЯТЬ: (Pyats) Five. Friday is ПЯТНИЦА because it's the fifth day of the week. Also, ВТОРОЙ (vtah-roy) is the adjective for second, so ВТОРНИК is Tuesday, the second day of the week.

- Bonus points to anyone who can name all the songs Noble quoted. If I'm not mistaken, there are nine songs in total (one song is quoted twice). Good luck!


	9. Part 2

Disclaimer: (Sigh). Why bother? You already know that I own practically everything in this story except for Ace Attorney elements… why do I have to do this time and time again? Sigh… I wish I had some EmO's™ brand cereal right about now… You know, there _is_ a free razorblade in every box…

Turnabout of the Ancient Mariner

(Part 2)

Tanya Krasivaya smiled. "You don't know how happy I am to see you."

Jaden Friday sighed. "You don't know how _surprised_ I am to see you here, sweet cheeks" he lied, wearily taking a seat on the other side of the glass. "What seems to be the problem?"

Tanya looked away. "I… I never said there was a problem…"

"Of course" Friday nodded. "Pardon me for being perceptive, sweet cheeks. What did you drag a psychiatrist out of his comfy, homely prison cell for then?"

Tanya paused for a minute, thinking over her words. "Well…" she began, "I suppose… there is a bit of a problem…" She bit her lip. "Would you… be willing to listen?" She looked at him hopefully.

"I don't know, sweet cheeks." Friday rolled his eyes. "I'm just _so_ busy right now, you know…"

"I think I hate my boyfriend" Tanya blurted out suddenly. She looked down away. "Chancellor… I think I hate him…" Her eyes began to water.

Friday put his hands behind his head and sighed. "I know the feeling, sweet cheeks. Really, I do." He leaned forward, so the he was inches from the glass. "Do you feel that way _all_ the time, or…"

"Oh, no!" Tanya exclaimed, flushing slightly. "If I felt that way all the time, I'd have dumped him _weeks _ago! It's just… in court…" she paused again, trying to find the right words. "Every time he sings 'objection' I feel like grinding my Stiletto heels into his throat until it leaves a permanent hole." She shivered. "Not enough to _kill_ him, you understand, just enough to make him have to breathe with an Iron Lung for the rest of his life."

Friday's eyes widened, partially out of shock and partially out of pleasure. A small smile inched across his face as he imagined Chancellor under Tanya's heel. "You know, that actually doesn't sound like a bad idea…"

"Please try to stay professional, Mr. Friday, I'm _sure_ you'd hate to be placed on death row" Tanya snapped.

Friday whistled. "And yet you care for him immensely outside of court, that _is_ interesting, isn't it?"

Tanya nodded sadly. "Yes… so you see, I really don't know what to do…" Tears sprung up in her eyes. "And if you could help at all… Oh, Mr. Friday, I know they'll label me insane if I go see someone else!"

"Alright, alright, easy now" Friday comforted. "Let's sit down and talk about this…"

_Patient log: Tanya Krasivaya_

_Patient displays a sort of bipolar love/hate relationship with boyfriend, Chancellor Moore (Death! Death!). Perhaps an awakening of a latent split-personality disorder, or perhaps the patient has developed a subconscious notion that all attorneys are worthless scum (prior to dating Mr. Moore, patient went undefeated in court for eight years. Half these attorneys were instantly infatuated, while the other half were instantly jealous, or so the patient seems to think)._

_Most likely, further sessions will be needed to pinpoint the exact problem, but one thing seems clear. These feelings are directed solely towards Chancellor Moore (Death! Death!), and he is most likely the cause. I can only hope that Chancellor Moore (Death! Death!) does not develop a close relationship with many other people. The results could be catastrophic._

_Then again, perhaps my own personal bias if affecting my judgment._

"Come back anytime now" Friday offered as Tanya left. "And don't forget. It's probably best to keep it _all_ inside for now."

Tanya nodded gratefully and left.

Friday shook his head and returned to his cell. _Sucker._

S.S. Noble. 7/10. 7:35 pm.

Chancellor turned around slowly. "Hey there! How are you…"

He was interrupted when a stuffed cow was hurled into his face. As the cow fell to the ground and his vision returned, Chancellor saw who had thrown it, and for the fourth time in several years, Chancellor feared for his life.

"_It's been TWO! MONTHS!_" Cassandra screamed, not caring who else was there. "_It's been TWO! WHOLE! MONTHS! And you haven't dropped by, written, you haven't even CALLED! What was I supposed to think? What if you had DIED? What if you were deathly ill? What if the writers had decided to write you out of the story? HOW THE HECK WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHAT WAS HAPPENING TO YOU! COMPLETE! _IDIOT! _CHANCELLOR! MOOOOORE!_" The last few words were accented with punches, and Chancellor fell to the ground, momentarily blacked out.

"I'm guessing you liked Dairy Mason then?" Chancellor asked as he regained consciousness.

"_Don't you _dare_ try to change the…_ wait…" Cassie gave him a confused look. "Dairy Mason? What the heck is a Dairy Mason?" Chancellor held up the stuffed animal that he had been assaulted with. "Oh… so _that's_ what it's called, huh?"

"Well what did _you_ call it?" Chancellor asked.

"Um…" Cassie blushed. "I named him… Chancellor… Moooooooore?"

Chancellor smiled, and picked himself up off the floor. "I really missed you, Cassie," he admitted, giving Chancellor back to her.

"Yeah" she said softly, taking the cow back into her arms. She looked at Chancellor (the person) for a minute, and then threw Chancellor (the cow) back into Chancellor's (the person) face. "_But don't think that getting all mushy with me is going to get you off the hook, buddy! Where the _heck_ have you _been_ for the past two months? You haven't called! You haven't…"_

"Um, yeah, I do this thing called _work?_" Chancellor defended. "Do you know how badly I'm in demand right now? Mr. Thenue is making me practically _live_ in my office!"

"Oh, and I suppose you don't have a _phone_ in your office? I suppose you haven't been taking 'mandatory breaks' for your precious _strawberries?_ Don't even _think_ I'm that gullible, buddy!"

"Oh, and what, pray tell, have _you_ been doing to keep in touch, huh? I don't remember you sending _me_ something on _my_ birthday!"

"You had a birthday recently?" Cassie asked, shocked.

"No, but I very well _could_ have! Just goes to show how well_ you_ did at staying in touch!"

"Well _excuse_ _me_, but…"

"Please… please stop" Ben begged. "There are people watching…"

Cassie and Chance looked around and were startled to find that, in fact, every person on the deck of the ship had stopped whatever they were doing and were staring intently at the two of them.

"Eheh" Chancellor chuckled nervously. "Family matters. What can you do, huh?" He grabbed Cassie by the shoulders and wrapped in her a hug. "I'm _so_ sorry I haven't kept in touch _little sister_, I've just been _so swamped_!" he said loudly.

"Oh!" Cassie said equally loud. "That's ok, _big brother_, I'm sure you've been meaning to get to it one of these days!" The crowd on the deck murmured among themselves, then returned to whatever they had been doing.

Chancellor turned back towards the two other attorneys, who, of course, hadn't believed a word. Alexis looked Cassie over. "You know, Chancellor," she said playfully. "I heard that the girl you were dating was a looker, a beauty, a real attractive gal, but I never thought she'd be so young, youthful, and little!" She batted her eyelids. "You're a bit of a cradle robber, don't you think?"

"NOT! MY! GIRLFRIEND!" Chancellor said loudly, at the precise time Cassie had yelled "NOT! HIS! GIRLFRIEND!" Chancellor shook his head. "I'm dating the gorgeous prosecutor Tanya Krasivaya, thank you; a hundred times prettier than this poor thing could _ever_ hope to be!"

"Yeah! That's right… HEY! _Wait a minute!_" Cassie yelled, punching Chancellor again. Chancellor laughed, and warded off the punches with his hands. "Triplex, Ben, this is my former assistant, Cassandra… and… I don't know her last name."

"Former?" Ben asked. "Why don't you have an assistant now? Surely, you need _someone_ there to help you if your own personality flaws blind you from the truth, monsieur?"

"Exactly, precisely, on the money" Alexis agreed.

"Well, I've got college to go to, plus father kind of has this innate hatred for all defense attorneys" Cassie explained. "Besides! I've got my own life to live! I can't spend it following _this_ guy around all the time." She lowered her voice. "Quite frankly, I think I'd go insane."

Ban chuckled, then took her hand and kissed it. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Cassandra."

"Oooh!" Cassie cooed, (somewhere in Noble's room, Morage cringed) "a friend of Chancellor's who can act like a gentleman! Now _that's_ something!"

"Well…" Ben chuckled, placing a hand behind his head. "I haven't known him for that long, actually, so I suppose I really can't be called…"

"Well then, that explains it, doesn't it?" Cassie said matter-of-factly. And that was that. Normally, Chancellor would have slumped over, objected, or reacted in some comical way to such a simple yet offensive statement, but an old man walking onto the deck of the ship caught his attention. He stood out from the crowd even more so than Chancellor. His long, black hair fell like seaweed in front of his face, and he was clothed entirely in a black wetsuit and skintight fishnets.

"Excuse me, lassie!" the man called out in a think Scottish accent as he crossed the deck towards the group. "Do you happen to be knowing the location of Mr. Jack Noble?"

"Um… I'm sorry sir, but I don't…" Cassie began.

"Um… I'm pretty sure he's talking to me," Chancellor said, smiling slightly out of embarrassment. He turned to look at the old man. "Mr. Noble is doing something private in his room right now… urk! I mean he's meeting with someone upstairs… I mean…"

"BWAHAHA!" the old man laughed, slapping Chancellor hard on the back. "Don't be worrying about it, lassie, I understand what you're saying."

"Thank you, Mr…"

"Culligan!" he said with a flourish. "Gilligan P. Culligan at your service, lassie!"

"Um yeah, about that? I'm what you'd call a 'laddie', actually." The man's smile fell quickly, and his face set itself in an 'oh' expression. "Yeah… don't worry, it happens all the time" Chancellor explained. "And it's a pretty funny story how it happened, actually, see…"

"_You're the part of me that I don't want to see! Forget it!_" came a loud scream from upstairs. The door to Mr. Noble's cabin slammed open. "_There's no way to talk to you when you're dead on arrival!_" A person ran hurriedly down the stairs, unseen by the startled onlookers. The person's identity was revealed soon enough, however, when Mr. Noble turned the corner, laughing heartily, with a large smile on his face. "Culligan, you scurvy dog, is that you?' he chuckled. "My old friend, I apologize. _Years_ have passed since…"

"Ahc, save it" Culligan laughed, slapping Noble hard on the back. "It's been mere months, and you _know_ it!"

"Yes, yes" Noble nodded. "Well, one two three, take my hand and come with me! I'll show you around!" He clutched Culligan's shoulder, and motioned for the group of four (apparently, Noble had not noticed the addition of Cassie) to follow. "First of all" he said, motioning back up towards the stairway, "you'll notice we swapped out the chandelier hanging from the stairwell."

"Ahc, I _had_ been noticing that!" Culligan remarked. "With the old one, you could be seeing all the way onto the upper deck!"

"If you tried that now, you'd go blind" came a soft mutter from behind Chancellor. Chance turned quickly, and noticed that Morage was now standing directly behind him, clutching his shoulder tightly. "A word to the wise, Moore? Pay attention for a change. Mr. Noble takes _great_ pride in this ship; faking genuine interest will get you in good for sure." Chancellor nodded politely, than turned his attention back to Jacopo.

"You'll also notice," Noble continued, "that both the wooden floor and railing have been recently stripped and given a fresh coat of varnish." He smiled broadly, and motioned for the group to draw nearer. "However, if you asked me what I'm most proud of…" he lowered his voice to a whisper. "It would have to be… THIS!" They rounded a corner suddenly, and saw a large, submarine dangling from a large magnetic hook. "Oho!" Noble laughed. "I just _live_ in this yellow submarine!" He said with a flourish. As his hand flung up towards the sky, a sliver ring on his fingers flew off his left hand and became stuck to the magnet. "Oh… dear…" Noble's face fell. "Kenny's not going to like that…"

"I've got an idea," Alexis offered. "Oh, Chocolate Bear!" she cried.

Zak was beside them in a heartbeat. "At your service, babe." CLUNK. The ring fell from the magnet onto Zak's head. "Happens all the time," he muttered out of habit, before walking away, disgusted.

"Oho!" Noble laughed. "Now _that's_ what we need in a young partner, quick thinking! Eh, Grumbles?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever" Morage grumbled.

_I could have thought of that! If I had had maybe twenty Moore minutes…and a chocolate covered strawberry… and if Tanya was here to help me think through it… and…_

"You're thinking about strawberries again, aren't you?" Cassie scolded. "I can tell by the look of yearning on your face."

"I was thinking about Tanya, actually, if you _must_ know" Chance shot back.

Cassie was not impressed. "And?" she asked expectantly.

"And… and strawberries, yeah" Chance admitted.

Just then, Noble clutched his heart and let out a loud gasp. Before anyone could rush forward to help him, however, he began to yell loudly and overdramatically. "Oh God, the way she moves! She's got me rolling in dirt in a white T-shirt, breaker, breaker one-nine, she's a big old flirt!" He picked himself up with a laugh, motioning forward. "For those of you who don't know, I'd like you to meet the love of my life, Kenny Noble!"

_…Kenny? Really? I'd never had expected…_

But before Chancellor could complete his thought, an older woman with mostly white, blonde-streaked hair appeared in front of them. She wore a long red dress, glittering with sequins all the way down. She waved at the group, but did not approach them. Noble ran towards her, falling on one knee and kissing her hand gently. "Baby, I can't breathe when you touch my body. When your heart beats, it's music to me…"

"Jackie!" Kenny said with a smile. "Really? Must you in front of so many people?"

Noble nodded furiously. "I want to sing it on the rooftop, climb on a mountaintop…"

"Alright dear, you've made your point" she smiled.

"I want to love you out loud" Noble finished quickly.

Mrs. Noble shook her head with a smile, and then curtseyed. "Kendra Noble. It's a pleasure."

"It certainly is a pleasure, a delight, an absolute joy to meet you as well, Mrs. Noble!" Alexis said quickly. "Mr. Noble's told me _so_ much about you! Is it true that built your law firm up out of nothing in the middle of New York City? That you taught Johnny Cochran everything he knew? That the only reason you weren't appointed Attorney General is because Caesar Kingsley is an old friend of yours, and it would look scandalous?"

(Caesar Kingsley? That, my dear friends, is the name of America's president in this crazy, messed up universe. He won't be getting his own in-depth section, so I might as well tell you now: his middle name is Rex, and his favorite song is 'I just can't wait to be king', from the Lion King. He also has an 88 approval rating, so he must be doing pretty dang well.)

Kenny Noble laughed. "Well, let's see… _yes_ I did start my own firm in NYC before moving here… _yes_ I do happen to be an old friend of Caesar's… and _no_, it wasn't Johnny Cochran I taught, it was _him_" she clarified, pointing at an insanely tall and broad-shouldered man talking with Spade and Newton.

Alexis slapped her forehead. "Idiot! Halfwit! Baka! Moron! Of _course_ it wasn't Cochran… it was the chief of police, Jonathan _Sherlock_! Forgive me, beg pardon, my apologies."

Kendra shook her head. "It's quite alright, Ms. Lexington. I've heard many things about _you_ as well." She winked. "I worried for a while that you were taking a bit _too_ much of my husbands time…" She laughed. "I joke, of course. Come on then, everyone! There are plenty of drinks below deck!" She walked to the door and held it open, ever the gracious hostess.

As they walked downstairs, Chancellor nudged Ben's arm. "You know, Benjamin…"

"Benvolio" Ben corrected patiently.

"Right, sorry… you know, Ben, if I were Cassie…" He glanced at the blonde, currently ranting about how the drinking age used to be eighteen and she was perfectly capable and mature enough to have wine with moderation. The bartender sank lower and lower behind the bar; any second now he would cave. Chancellor shook his head. "Don't ask me why I thought of this… but if I were Cassie, and I had the whole 'Life has to be a giant storybook' complex going on, I'd note that, counting Sherlock, we've got twelve 'main characters' on board right now."

Ben looked at Chancellor, confused. "Pray tell, monsieur. Why does that matter? Whether there are twelve 'main characters' or twenty, it does not change the fact that we are enjoying ourselves, no?"

"It's not so much that there are twelve…" Chancellor mused. "It's Moore along the lines of… 'Where's the thirteenth?'"

"The thirteenth?"

"The thirteenth" Chancellor nodded. "There's an old saying that 'when thirteen dine, the first to rise is the first to die." He shook his head. "It may sound a bit morbid, but, with thirteen players in this pageant, things have to potential to get interesting." Ben's eyes widened, and he gave Chancellor a weird look. Chancellor maintained a serious look for a minute, and when he could not contain it any longer, burst out laughing. "HAHAHA! Oh man, Ben, I'm sorry… I really shouldn't do stuff like that to you." He clapped Ben on the shoulder. "Honestly, from the way I was talking, you'd think I'd overdosed on H.P. Lovecraft!"

"There's no such _thing_ as too much H.P. Lovecraft" came a raspy voice from behind them.

Ben turned around quickly and, after seeing the person behind them, jumped back against the wall. Chancellor stared ahead for a minute, then turned around to face the voice, hoping to God, gravy, and chocolate covered strawberries that karma wasn't real.

-

Author's note corner (if you're just here for the story, you can stop reading now):

Alright! Alright!

No one's died yet, I know. And even though you won't say it at the risk of sounding strange, I know that you _want_ someone to die. _So_ badly. All I can say is… I'm working on it! GAAAAAAAH!

Name Origins:

Gilligan P. Culligan. 'Gilligan' is the title character of _Gilligan's island_, and Culligan was a water delivery service. For those of you who haven't guessed, he's the ancient mariner from the title.

Kendra Noble: Again, no real basis for the name; I just liked it.

Jonathan Sherlock. From John Watson and Sherlock Holmes, the main characters of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's famous series.

Caesar Rex Kingsley: An enormous pun about having a king for president. Rex is Latin for king, Caesar is an allusion to the first emperor of Rome, and Kingsley is… well, obvious.

In-depth: Benvolio Paraclete.

And lo and behold, the heavens opened up, and down from the shimmering tapestry of cloud, wind, and star came Benvolio Paraclete. He looked upon the earth, and saw that it was good, but not perfect. Hence, he became mortal, and walked the earth in pursuit of a just society, where everyone could pursue their dreams without offending others.

It was pretty scary when it happened; let me tell you. Nevertheless, I, as the sole witness to this event, am both burdened and blessed with Benvolio's brotherhood. His wish is to bring a certain peace and sanity to the otherwise erratic madhouse that is Thenue and Noble law offices.

You said he was clothed in yellow, but what exactly…? : A very nice yellow sweatshirt with golden corduroys and mustard dress shoes.

Middle name! Middle name! Middle name! : Hastur. Nope, no explanation, just… Hastur. If you really need to know, go to Wikipedia.

Is Andorra real? : Yes Andorra is real! It's right between France and Spain. Look on any map; it's true!

Oooooh! What! Iiiiiiiiiiis his faaaaaaaaaavorite soooooooooong? : Please don't sing. _Ever_. And it's "Baba Yetu', from the game Civilization 4. Interesting fact: The lyrics are the 'Our Father' in Swahili!

Learn Russian! :

We're still doing this, huh? Do me a favor; sound off (review) if you actually bother reading this part, eh? I'd like to get a feel for how many people I'm… teaching. Anywho, on to the vocabulary!

ЗАПАС СЛОВ (pronounced 'zap-ahc slov'): Vocabulary. (I didn't… mean it literally…) Literally, it means 'supply of words'.

СУББОТА (pronounced 'sue-bought-a'): Saturday.

ВОСКРЕСЕНЬЕ (pronounced 'bos-kra-sen-yeh): Sunday. Literally, it means 'Resurrection.'

Я ИНТЕРЕСУЮСЬ ПИСАНИЕ (pronounced 'ya een-ter-yes-oo-use pee-sahn-ee-yeh'): I am interested in writing (if you're here, you _know_ it's true).


	10. Part 3

Disclaimer:

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts!

…

…

…

Well it's true!

Progress report: Yup. I'm making up for taking so long by releasing _two_ chapters this week! I could say that, but it'd be a lie. This chapter just turned out really short (and easily written), so… enjoy!

Turnabout of the Ancient Mariner

(Part 3)

"Good to see you!" nodded Judge Scotty.

_… Why?_ Thought Jaden Friday, face palming himself. _Why on earth do all these crazy people come see… oh wait. I'm a psychiatrist. That would do it, yeah._ "It's… good to see you too, I guess? Star head?" Friday said uncertainly.

Scotty flicked at the front-most of his five pointed locks of hair. "I'm not a star head!" he defended. "It's a _pentagram!_"

"Which… is a star." Friday asserted.

'Well…" Scotty shrugged. "Yeah. I suppose it is."

Friday shook his head. _At the risk of sounding redundant… why?_ "What seems to be the trouble then, star head?" he asked politely, yet rudely at the same time. "Marital issues? New father anxiety? Believe me, I've seen some weird stuff; don't worry about seeming strange."

"Well no" Scotty explained. "It's not about _me_ per se… I'll have you know Lia's very happy, and Georgia's just peachy… it's about my friend."

"And who would that be?" Friday asked, pretending to care.

"Chancellor, of course" Scotty said, a slight chuckle lacing his voice. "Who else would have problems?"

_Death! Death!_ "What kind of problems would he seem to be having?" Friday asked.

"Well… it's not exactly him, it's _about_ him…" Scotty looked around the room for a minute, and then leaned in towards the glass. "You see… for some reason, the prosecutor's office is forcing poor Tanya… you remember Tanya? Well she and Chance are dating now, and the prosecutor's office is forcing them to face each other in court _all the time._" Scotty shook his head and let out a sigh. "Chance could care less, it doesn't affect him in the slightest. But _Tanya…_" his voice trailed off. "Well… it's killing her, I can tell." He shook his head slightly. "I really can't stand the sight of it."

Friday nodded. _Yeah. I've _heard_ this before, star head. What do you want _me_ to do about it?_

"You see the thing is…" Scotty continued. "As a judge, I'm supposed to remain impartial in court matters. I've considered taking the issue up with the prosecutor's office, surely I could do _something_, but I stop myself every time. I don't know if I'm afraid I'll lose my job or…" He shook his head again. "I really don't know what I should do."

Friday looked Scotty over for a minute, and then sighed dramatically. "Alright then, star head. Let's start from the beginning. When did you first…"

_Patient Log: Scotland Domino_

_Surprisingly normal. Subject is, despite certain immature tendencies, a level minded and mature adult. His concern for Chancellor (Death! Death!) and Tanya (Oh baby!) seems genuine, and his unwillingness to do anything about the problem seems, according to this first session, to be a legitimate concern for professional ethics, without any sort of selfish, ulterior motives whatsoever._

_It's guys like this that give the rest of us bad names._

"Alright then" Friday said after the session was finished. "My advice for now would be to follow what us shrinks like to call the 'doctrine of inaction'." He smirked internally. "Muddy waters, when left alone, will clear themselves. I think that, for now at least, this situation has the potential to sort itself out."

Scotty nodded gratefully. "I'll be sure to put in a good word for you, Mr. Friday" he smiled. "For a psychotic murderer, you're not all that bad a guy!"

Friday faked a smile, gave a slight wave, and returned to his cell. _Why is an idiot like that on the judge's bench?_

-S.S. Noble. 7/10. 9:00 pm.

"So tell me honestly, Chance" Kendra Noble asked. "How does it look?"

The two of them were sitting side by side at the below deck bar. Chancellor gave her an amused look and responded. "Mrs. Noble, I'm a young, ambitious attorney competing for a partner slot in your husband's firm. Do you _honestly_ expect an objective opinion?"

"Yes" she nodded.

"Appletini!" yelled the bartender. "Which one of you girls ordered an appletini?"

"That'd be me," Chancellor said, raising his hand. The bartender gave him and odd look, and then passed Chance the glass. He took a small sip, smacked his lips, and set the drink down. "Fair enough" he said, returning to the conversation. "I think that your new leather jacket, no matter how nice it is on its own, clashes something terrible with your red sequin dress, and it probably would have been better if you hadn't gone up and put it on."

"I know," she whispered, leaning forward with a smile. "I put it on _just_ to see how honest the people down here are!" She laughed, but kept it at a whisper. "Benvolio over there said something along the lines of 'Oh… it is a nice outfit, yes mademoiselle' and Triplex complimented me endlessly, using all these words that, really, meant the exact same thing." She stifled another laugh, and than took a sip of her Bloody Mary. "That's what I like about you, Chancellor. You're direct!"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," joked Chance.

"Direct" said Alexis, popping out of nowhere. "When used as an adjective, it means the same thing as 'straightforward, candid, and frank', with synonyms being '_plain'_ and_ 'direct talk'._" She smiled, feeling good about herself.

Chance stared for a minute with his mouth agape. "I'm going to call you 'Miriam' from now on, ok?"

"_Not_ ok, uncool, undesirable!" Alexis pouted. "It's Triplex or nothing, you hear me?"

"Look, Miriam" Chance explained. "While, I have to admit, Triplex is a _very _fitting name for you, I'm dating someone right now, and I don't want to give myself Moore temptation then I'm _already_ dealing with." He took a sip of appletini. "Besides, I like Miriam better. It's not as awkward to say, both in pronunciation _and_ connotation."

"Don't you worry about connotation, nuance, _suggestion_" she said suggestively, "You don't have a Chance anyway, understand, realize, comprehend?" She took a sip of his appletini, than licked the residue off her lips.

Chancellor closed his eyes, and focused on chocolate covered strawberries. "If you would, Miriam, go flirt with Benjamin; as far as I know, he's single."

"It is _Benvolio."_ Ben corrected patiently from across the room. "And yes, I am single; though it is not like I have been trying very hard to change that, and I do not mean to say by admitting I am single that I would like Ms. Lexington to come over here… not that I _would not_ enjoy her company, mind you, but I mean…"

"It's alright Ben" Kendra comforted. "Nobody's offended."

"Thank you, mademoiselle" Ben sighed appreciatively.

Chancellor sighed, laughing slightly under his breath. He looked at an empty bowl in front of him. "Well…" he shrugged. "I guess I'll go get Moore pretzels then…"

"Chancellor, NO! DON'T GET UP!" Cassie yelled from behind him. "Don't you know the old saying? 'When thirteen dine, the first to rise is the first to die!'"

A light bulb flashed on in Chancellor's head. "Oh! That's right! Mrs. Noble, I was wondering…" he leaned closer and whispered. "What exactly was wrong with that guy?"

"_Which_ guy?" Kendra asked, smiling.

"You know…"

-Flashback-

Chancellor blinked. Was he actually seeing this? Behind him stood a tall, withered looking old man. White hair sprung out from his head, reminiscent of Beethoven or Einstein, and the fingernails on his right hand were at least eight inches long (his left hand's nails were cut down to the skin). Under his left armpit, he clutched a violin to his side.

"Like I said," the man rasped. "You can _never_ have too much H.P. Lovecraft; it's like too much Beethoven, it's impossible to achieve." The man's eyes darted back and forth from Chancellor to Ben, as if not knowing just who to direct his hatred towards.

Chancellor blinked again, then nodded slowly. "Well…" he said awkwardly, "thanks for the input, Mr…"

"DuClaw" he said, extending his right, clawed hand. "Stradivarius DuClaw."

Chancellor took the hand gingerly, careful to avoid cutting himself, and shook it lightly. The man tore his hand away, and went to sit at the far end of the bar.

-End Flashback-

"Oh, _him_" Kendra recalled. "That's just old DuClaw. He's a prosecutor for Massachusetts circuit court."

"He is?" Chance asked, glancing nervously back at the man, who was giving him strange, creepy looks every now and again, "Then why… why haven't I seen him?"

"He's retired, mostly," Kendra explained. "They only pull him out of hiding for momentously important cases, or to crush an up and coming, undefeated rookie's spirit."

"_I'm_ an up and coming, undefeated rookie!" Chancellor stressed.

"Yes…" Kendra nodded. "But I think that the bigwigs up in the prosecutor's office believe that forcing you to have at it with your girlfriend on a daily basis is a much Moore _effective_ means of crushing your spirit, wouldn't you agree?" She took a sip of drink, and shook her head. "It's diabolical, what they'll stoop to."

"Well…" Chancellor began, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. "_I_ have no problem with it… but." He looked down. "I don't want to talk about it, in all honesty."

"WHAT!?" Cassie screamed, shocking Chancellor and causing him to fall to the floor. "You and Tanya are going though a rough patch, and you're not going to talk about it? That's insane! That's unhealthy! You can't let things like this stay bottled up inside for the rest of eternity! I can't _stand_ that about men! They keep their inner feelings locked away, biding their time and hoping that everything will sort itself out, when in _reality_, the only thing that has to be done to solve it is have a nice, long, emotion-filled conversation! But _of course_, you're a 'man', so you feel you can't show emotion and you find decent conversation _utterly and inherently boring!_ Yes, even you, with a woman's face and 'woman's intuition'! GOD! YOU'RE _SUCH_ A GUY!" She panted heavily, and then took a drink of birch beer. (Yeah, the bartender was able to hold his ground. Give that man a Klondike Bar.)

Chancellor, still sitting on the floor, smiled. "I missed that," he admitted. "No matter how annoying and maddening I say it is in the future, I want you to know that I somewhat enjoy it, and if you ever stopped, a little part inside of me would die." He thumbed his nose at her. "How's _that_ for emotion-filled conversation?"

Kendra laughed, slid off her barstool, and helped Chance up. "You're just _so_ mature, you know that, Chancellor?"

"Which is why I deserve a junior partner slot in your firm" Chance said monotonously. "I also deserve a junior partner slot in your firm because…"

Kendra stifled another chuckle and shook her head. "You know, I might consider giving you a raise just for your sense of humor."

"It would certainly counteract the salary _cuts_ I get from Mr. Thenue for the _same_ sense of humor" Chance replied.

"Sense of humor…" muttered Morage, honked over a mason jar of beer, "Moore, I bet you don't even know what a sense of humor _is_."

"An aptitude for determining that quality which appeals to a sense of the ludicrous or absurdly incongruous!" came Alexis' voice from across the room.

"Mademoiselle…" Ben said softly. "I am not saying that you, personally, are irritating, but I believe that some people find your particular habit of defining things to be…"

"Oho!" laughed Noble. "She might drive you crazy at first…" he commented. "But wait a bit, and it'll feel alright!"

Chancellor groaned, and stood up, despite protests from Cassie. "I think I'm going to go get some fresh air, before I completely drown in idiosyncrasies."

"That's most likely being a good idea, laddie!" Culligan laughed. "I should be getting some fresh air too; you won't be minding if I'll be joining yeh?"

"Well that depends…" Chancellor mused. "Do you like chocolate covered strawberries?"

"Never had 'em in me life, I'm afraid" Culligan said, wondering why on earth he'd been asked that.

Chancellor's jaw dropped, and he stared at the Scotsman, dumbstruck. He reached into his sweater jacket pocket, and pulled out a small box. "We're fixing that" he said. "_NOW!_"

-Deck of the Ship. 9:21 pm.

"AHC!" yelled Culligan, spitting over the upper balcony. ("Happens all the time!" came Newton's voice from below.) "That's being the most _disgusting_ thing I've ever been tasting in me _life!_"

"Your heart is tainted by evil, and you should die in a fiery pit surrounded by teachers constantly scratching their absurdly long nails on chalkboards, all the while being forced to dance the jitterbug to the tune 'Crazy Bus'" Chancellor asserted. Being Tanya's beau had had an… _interesting_ effect on his insults.

"What on earth…" Culligan whispered. "Was that supposed to be a joke?"

"_NO_" Chancellor chuckled, shaking his head. "In my experience, people who don't like chocolate covered strawberries are evil. _EVIL!_" Chancellor lowered his voice comically. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

Culligan laughed, running a hand through his long black hair. "Let me be telling you, laddie, there are better things to be judging a man for then a like of candies."

"Then what _should_ I judge you on?" Chancellor asked, leaning over the balcony. "I mean, seriously, all I know right now is that you're some dodgy old friend of my boss'."

"Well" Culligan began. "I'm being a fisherman by trade; I mostly be running a lobster outfit off the coast of Maine." He leaned over the balcony as well. "I used to be running a herring fishery in me native Scotland, but some corporate money-grabbers' were buying it up." He smiled, reminiscing. "I was first meeting Jack when he was settling that dispute, and earning me enough money to be coming over to America."

"A Maine fishery in lobster, huh?" Chancellor said absent-mindedly. "Then what are you in Boston, Mass. for?"

Culligan smiled broadly, getting up from the balcony. "Well, can't a Scotsman be seeing an old friend every now and again?" He eyed Chance curiously. "Certainly_ you're_ having some friends out of state, yes?"

"Heck, if I do, I wouldn't know it" Chance laughed. "Amnesia for everything before the age of fourteen, after all." He smiled, clutching his heart dramatically. "I've always liked to imagine that somewhere, maybe in Tennessee… or Georgia, there's a sweet Belle who had her high-school sweetheart tragically torn away from her." His smile widened. "As terrible as that would be for the girl, I actually find it amusing to think about."

"There's being nothing more heart wrenching than a girl stranded without her man" Culligan said solemnly, his smile fading.

Chance gulped, and stood up straight. _Oops._ "Sorry…" he apologized quickly. "I didn't mean to…"

"Ahc," Culligan brushed off. "It's nothing. All being in the past, laddie." He smiled, clapping Chancellor hard on the back. "Abyssinia, Moore."

_Abyssinia? Isn't that a… nah. That's too obscure a reference, even for here._ "See you later, Mr. Culligan" Chancellor replied, giving a short salute. Culligan returned the gesture, and then strolled off, eventually lost from sight by the large crowd still gathered on deck.

Chancellor sighed, and leaned over the balcony, observing the crowd wistfully. "Certainly, we're not _boring_ you, are we Chance?" Chancellor looked up slightly, to see a smiling Ms. Aegis leaning against the balcony next to him. _From one idle bit of small talk to another…_ "Nah" Chance shook his head. "It's just that formal events like this remind me too much of senior prom."

"Oro?" Aegis cocked her head. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"You know… the hype, the excitement getting there, the secret hope that sometime during the night, something will happen…"

Aegis chuckled slightly. "I don't know about that" she commented. "Sometimes it's peaceful when nothing happens, isn't it?"

Chance groaned. "Yeah, I guess you're right…" A light bulb went off. "Oh, TripleA?" He asked. "I was wondering… what was the whole… I mean, I don't mean to pry, but…"

"You sound like Ben" Aegis commented, shifting uncomfortably. "I know what you're getting at, Chance, and…" her voice trailed off. "It's just something in the past. It doesn't really concern you." She smiled slightly. "Not to brush you off, or anything."

"No, fine, I understand…" Chance said, shifting so his back was against the railing. "One Moore question, though…" he continued. "Who's… Barry?"

Aegis grunted slightly, and looked away. "Noticed that, huh? I suppose…" she paused. "He's someone who used to work at the firm. That's true enough." She looked Chance in the eye. "And like I said earlier, it doesn't really concern you." She bit her lip. "I never should have brought him up…" she muttered, walking away, "…always been a touchy subject…"

Chance watched her go, then groaned and flung his arms out. "Good gravy, when is something going to _happen?_" He yelled to the heavens.

-One hour, ten minutes later.

"Whoa, whoa!" Zak Newton said after colliding with Culligan. "What's the big hurry, buddy?" Culligan had been running down the stairs from Noble's room, and had run into Zak, who was standing at the bottom. "What's that you've got in your hand?" Zak asked, referring to a slip of paper the Scotsman was clutching.

"Th… this?" Culligan stuttered. "Nothing! This is… this is…"

The young police officer took the paper from the Scotsman and looked it over. His face fell from a cheery smile to a concerned frown, and he glanced at Culligan suspiciously. "Detective Spade?" Zak called. "Keep a good eye on this guy, will you?" He climbed the steps, took a deep breath, and opened the door to Mr. Noble's room.

Two minutes later, Zak came out of the room, eyes wide. He stepped shakily down the stairs. He gulped, and then addressed Tracy Spade.

"Oh my God…" he whispered. "Th… they killed Kenny."

-

Author's note corner (if you're just here for the story, stop here)

And the foundation has finally been laid! Case three can officially begin!

I began to feel a bit like Chancellor writing these chapter, wondering, 'When can I kill someone? When can I kill someone?' The amount of self-control it took to wait until all the background/vital information was written is applaudable. So go ahead. Applaud. I'm _waiting._

Thank you. Anyway, it's Chancellor's Tenniversary! In honor of this special event, we have… nothing!

**OBJECTION!**

"That's not fair!" Chancellor objected. "We should do _something_ special!" He pouted. "It's not _every_ one of your stories that makes it this far… in fact, this is the first one that doesn't have Roronoa Zoro as a main character!"

Amaxing sighed. "Fine then, Chance. What do you propose we do?"

"Well…" Chancellor mused. "Could we maybe do the 'Hare Hare Yukai dance?"

"How on earth do you put something like that on paper?" Max asked, exasperated.

"True' Chancellor commented. "Maybe we could… tell everyone your real name?"

"Oh yeah, that's safe" Max commented sardonically. "Maybe I should tell them where I live, and post a picture of myself up in Google Image Search as well, eh?"

"Well…" Chancellor thought, slightly embarrassed. "I suppose you could… write me a theme song?"

Max thought for a minute. "Like, and _actual_ theme song, or like background music?"

"Background music, sure!" Chance smiled. "Why not?"

"Again, that's hard to do on paper…" Max muttered. "But, what the heck, I do happen to think of these things while I'm trying to fall asleep at night. Background music for some! All copied from Ace Attorney!"

Chancellor: Well, to be honest, he gets the April May/ Lotta Hart/ Desi Delite ditz music.

Spade: GUMSHOE'S THEME! Total awesomeness.

Cassie: Tough one. I'm pretty sure she gets the ditz music too.

Morage: He gets a jazzy version of the 'Turnabout Sisters' theme.

Liam: Yup, he's still included. Hard rock version of Ema's theme.

Tanya: The Fragrance of Dark Coffee… because honestly, what song in the game is Moore seductive?

And… that's all I've thought of. Don't ask for Moore! You will pay!

Name Origins:

Kendra Noble: As insensitive as this might seem… I named her Kendra _just_ so I could make the 'They Killed Kenny' reference. Yeah… You can go ahead and kill me now. The children in Atlanta, Georgia will thank you.

Character In-Depth: Jacopo Noble.

I figure I'll give you a decent profiling of the guy _before_ he finds out his wife is dead. Just seems fair.

The speech pattern. Why do I have so many characters with strange speech patterns, you ask? Ah, that's because I'm a strange person. Elementary, my dear Watson.

Anyway, I've thought, on several occasions, that there are so many songs out there now; a person could, with enough musical knowledge, converse in everyday conversation using _only lyrics_. Quite frankly, my musical knowledge is… not that diverse. Nevertheless, I shall give it my all. And use Google if necessary.

So… he and Kenny have been married for… how long? : About twenty-five, thirty years. Heck, let's take the average of that and say twenty-seven, unless it somehow contradicts the story later.

Of all the songs in all the world, which is his favorite? : Since he's been exposed to nearly every song on the planet (_huge_ record collection we're talking here) he's concluded that the best song in the world is 'American pie' by Don McLean.

Middle name? : What? Not asking it cutely anymore? Alright then, it's Randolph… for no particular reason other than that's the first name that popped into my head as I was writing this.

What are the answers for chapter one? I want to know if I got bonus points!

Alright, alright then. The songs referenced, in order, were:

'A little less 'Sixteen Candles', a little more 'Touch me'', by Fall Out Boy.

'What a wonderful world', by Louis Armstrong.

'You're the one who's out of this world', from Alf.

'Dude looks like a lady', by Aerosmith.

Sixteen Candles, referenced a second time.

'Off we go into the wild blue yonder'… does that have a corresponding artist?

'My turn', by Reba McEntire

'Pirelli's Miracle Elixir', from Sweeney Todd.

'Take your time', by Buddy Holly.

'You give love a bad name', by Bon Jovi. (Yes, the line really _is_ 'you're to blame', I checked.)

-Nine songs, one quote twice, just like I said! Am I good, or what?

That one was worth… 1000 points, for those of you keeping track. No partial credit.

Hint for Chapter two: There are eight songs referenced in chapter two, no repeats.

Learn Russian!

Today, we're going to learn a phrase! Fun, huh?

КАК ВАШ(A) ЗОВУТ? (Pronounced kahk va-sha za-voot): KAK means 'How' (and yes, you can be immature and laugh at how it's pronounced). ВАШ is the adjective 'your'; ВАШA is the feminine, if you were to ask a girl this question. Finally, ЗОВУТ means something along the lines of 'what you are called' or, Moore simply, 'name'. Literally, it means, 'How are you called?', but a better translation is 'What's your name?'

Technically, though, the answer doesn't _have_ to be your real name. If you have a nickname that people usually call you by, you'd answer the question with that instead of your actual first name. I.E. If, for some reason, my friends called me 'Bucket Head' (it's not true!) and a Russian asked me that question, I'd respond 'Bucket Head' and not Max. (Even though Max isn't my real name either… yeah.)


	11. Part 4

Disclaimer: We interrupt this story for a News' News' special. Coming to you live from the field, it's AFFI's very own disclaimer writer, Skyler… last nameless. What's the scoop Sky?"

"Amaxi…" (static) "sn't own…" (static) "ttorney!!"

And there you have it. Amaxisn't ownttorney! Wait, what? What does that even mean? Blue haired freak of a writer…

Turnabout of the Ancient Mariner

(Investigation, part 1)

"Hey…" Ricky Writchard said awkwardly, taking a seat. "What's up doc?" He laughed. "I know you don't know me, but…"

"I know you" Friday said, emotionless. "You're the upstart detective whose evidence put me here, right?"

"Well…" Ricky laughed. "Heck, if the gumshoe fits, I guess! Haha!"

_… He wants my help… yet openly admits to putting me here. I'll have to make a note of that._ "I suppose you're here because of girlfacemanboy, right, upstart?" _Death! Death!_

Ricky nodded, smiling. "Wow, you fit the title 'evil genius' to a tee!" He puffed his chest up. "But I guess it wasn't enough to outsmart the great _Ricardo Writchard_, eh?"

Friday stared ahead blankly. "The problem? Upstart?"

"Eh?" Ricky asked, confused. "Ah! That's right, I came here to get your opinion on something."

"Go ahead…" Jaden sighed.

"You see, Chancellor and Tanya are going through a rough patch, and I was thinking… well, he's already come to me asking if they should get counseling…" Ricky shuddered. "I told him no, something that extreme would only make things worse. However, I'm kind of torn on whether I should tell him to bide his time _completely_ or to address the issue in a Moore conversational, less tremendous way, you know?"

_Objection! That's a leading question! Etc. Etc… _"He should definitely bide his time completely" Friday nodded, faking sincerity perfectly. "Muddy waters, when left alone, will clear themselves, after all."

Ricky nodded. "That's what I thought." He stood up with a grunt. "Well, thanks, doc. Next time I see Chance, I'll be sure to tell him to have a nice, _long_ talk with Tanya."

Friday's eye twitched slightly. "Wait, what's that, upstart? Why on earth would you…"

"Dude…" Ricky said softly. "You might be a good actor… but nothing gets by the great _Ricardo Writchard_." He smirked. "Besides, you _hate_ Chancellor, don't you? Why on earth would you give his _best friend_ decent advice?" He shrugged, and turned around, waving back without looking. "Later, gator."

Friday stroked his chin thoughtfully, watching him go.

_Patient log: Ricardo Writchard_

_The only one of Chancellor's (Death! Death!) friends so far to exhibit intelligence. Must be wary of him in the future._

_Also a bit stuck on himself. Would like to address if he ever visits again._

-S.S. Noble. 7/10. 10:45 pm.

The party was over. A murder will do that. Noble sat on the floor, hysterical, Thenue and Aegis comforting him. Spade read Culligan his rights, handcuffing him to the railing until a police car arrived. Alexis, Ben, Chancellor, and Cassie leaned against an opposite railing, trying to come to grips with what was going on.

"Unbelievable… astonishing… mind-boggling…" whispered Alexis, clinging tightly to Chancellor's right arm. "I can't believe… _Mrs. Noble_ of all people… oh my God…"

"It is times like this when men should stand together," Ben asserted, clinging tightly to Chancellor's left arm. "We must come out of this tragedy closer than ever before, monsieur, mademoiselle."

"Fair enough…" Chance said uneasily. "But, the tragedy of this notwithstanding, you guys are a bit _too_ close for comfort here."

"Oh come on! I need someone to cling to, hold on to, hug right now," Alexis pouted. "I can't even _imagine_ the pain that Mr. Noble must feel…"

Cassie, dealing with the shock surprisingly well, shook her head, unbelieving. "Somebody… actually _died_," she whispered. "And as far as we know, Liam wasn't here!"

"That joke was in bad taste," Chance groaned, shrugging Alexis and Ben off. "Come on Cass, we're going to check out the room."

"Are you sure you will be able to handle the horror that awaits you?" Ben called after him. "Mind you, I am not saying you are weak-hearted… but if it were me, I feel I would faint on sight, monsieur."

Chancellor smiled gratefully. "Thanks Benjamin, but I'll be fine. I may have a woman's face, but I can take things like a man."

"It is _Benvolio_" Ben corrected patiently. "And good luck, Chance."

"Hold it!" came a deep, bellowing voice as Chance began to climb the stairs. "Just _where_ do you think _you're_ going?"

"The crime scene?" Chance asked, suddenly intimidated.

"Not without _my_ say so, you don't!" said a ridiculously tall man with a large, handlebar moustache. "There's a _police_ investigation going on, and I'll _have_ you know…"

"Mr. Sherlock, sir?" came Spade's gravelly voice. "He's OK, you can let him up. Zak will probably appreciate the company anyway…" He bit his lip. "I'm a bit worried about him actually… first homicide and all…"

"He should _learn_ the _trade_ by the good old _School of Hard Knocks_, as I always _say_" Sherlock retorted. Nevertheless, he shook his thumb up the stairway, signaling that Chance and Cassie could go up. "Experience _tells_ me, however, that _anyone_ OK with Spade is_ OK_ by me."

"Erm… thank you sir." Chance said, nodding slightly.

Jacopo Noble's Suite. 7/10. 10:50 pm.

"What? That doesn't… aagh… I can't focus…"

Chance and Cassie entered the room quietly, eyes averted at first. When each in turn was ready, they looked, and each was unable to retain the gasp of horror that welled up from within. Kendra Noble lay on her back, the right side of her head bruised and bloody. Besides her, a poker from a nearby fireplace lay on the ground, covered in blood. In the back of the room, to the right of the fireplace, a large, stand up safe stood, clearly broken into, a saw, a crowbar, and other safe-cracking tools still on the ground.

Chance was the first to regain his voice. "Hey… Zak."

The young detective looked up hurriedly, his yellow hard hat sliding over his eyes. "Chancellor…" he said, shifting the hat back up, "what brings you here?"

"Thought I'd check up on you," he replied, leaning against a wall so as not to faint, "and see what you've found out. I heard from Spade that it's your first murder."

"Yeah…" Zak admitted, looking down at the body. "And already things aren't making sense… I'm thinking forensics isn't my calling after all…"

"What do you mean?" asked Cassie, enabling herself to speak by closing her eyes.

"Well… you see this wound here?" Zak motioned. Neither looked. "Well…" he continued. "Judging from the surface of the wound and the poker lying next to the body, you'd think this was a simple case of concussive shock and bleed out, right?"

"Oh… yeah sure…" Chance nodded. "That's just what I thought when I entered the room… concussive shock and bleed out."

"Right…" Zak said, eyes narrowing. "Well, the thing is… and I hate to say this, but… if this were a straight 'hit and run' case, as it were… there would be more blood."

"_More_ blood?" Cassie asked, eyes still closed.

"Yeah…" Zak said, scratching his head. He shrugged, than handed Chance a file. "Well, for what it's worth, here's my report…"

Autopsy Report: Victim: Kendra Noble. Time of Death: Between 9:30 and 10:30 pm. Cause of death: blunt trauma and blood loss. Note: Amount of blood seems not to correspond with wound… merits further investigation.

"I'd like to put on there that, seeing as the killer ran out of the room at around 10:30, the time of death was most likely around 10:20…" Zak muttered. "But the report has to be completely unbiased, so there you have it."

"Ok…" Chance said uneasily, looking over the report. "Why… are you giving this to me?"

"Just a hunch…" Zak said, bending back down over the body. "But you might want to be heading back out soon… I get the feeling something heavy's about to drop, and not on my head."

"Yeah… but…" Cassie started. "What about…"

Zak smiled. "I imagine you'll get the Chance to see this stuff again _quite_ soon." He nodded towards the door. "If you would, I need to focus here."

Chance nodded. "You got it, Cocoa Bear."

Zak twitched slightly, but decided to let it go. There were bigger things to worry about.

-Back on Deck.

"_THERE YOU ARE!"_ Noble screamed as Chancellor walked back towards the group. "_It's about time!_" His face was contorted into a passionate rage that Chance had seldom seen, and his habit of quoting songs was unhappily absent. "I want the _three_ of you to listen to me, and listen to me _well._" He continued, glaring at each young attorney separately. "Right now, the only thing I can think about is for _that man_," he pointed to Culligan. "To _burn in hell _for his betrayal." He glared at Culligan, who averted his eyes. "However" Noble continued, looking back at the three. "I am not the kind of man who would take a bond of trust so lightly; nor will I deny the possibility, _however_ slim it may be, that another person could have committed this crime." He stamped his foot. "That's why, the _three of you_ are taking his case, _together_." He got insanely close to their faces and screamed. "_And you'll fight for him tooth and nail, making DAMN sure the truth comes out, because I want to be DAMN SURE that the man they HANG for this is the RIGHT one!_" He turned his back. "Now get to work." Then he burst into tears, falling to the deck. Morage and Aegis quickly ran to him, pulling him to his feet, while Alexis, Ben, Chance, and Cassie stood there, looking at each other and blinking.

"_Three_ of you…" Cassie muttered. "What am I, chopped liver?"

"Is that _really_ all you can think about right now?" Ben asked. "Not saying it is _unnatural_ to be feeling that way, but really, at a time like this, mademoiselle?"

Cassie sighed. "I suppose you're right. I'm not technically part of this firm anyway…"

"Right…" Alexis said, gathering herself. She stood up, straightened her back up, and faced the other three. "Alright! Ok! Let's do this!" She knocked on her head slightly with her fist. "The first thing we should do is get everybody's alibi straight… Chancellor, what were you doing?"

"How could I forget?" Chance shuddered slightly. "A little after 10:00…"

"It was Moore like 10:10" Cassie commented. "We should probably be as accurate as possible here."

"Fine." Chance nodded. "Around 10:10, Mr. Noble took us over to the submarine…" He shuddered again. "Do you know how fast a face can go from happiness to agony?"

"As fast as a monkey can climb a pole covered in peanut butter" Cassie nodded solemnly.

"… Sorry, what?" Ben asked after a slight pause.

"You don't understand that?" Chance asked in disbelief. "You see, a monkey can climb a pole fast enough as it is, but with peanut butter the pole becomes stickier, and makes it easier to climb!" He shook his head. "Don't they have analogies in Andorra?"

"Actually Chance… I'm kind of surprised _you _got that one" Cassie admitted. "I thought my dad was a _freak_ when he taught me that."

"Thompson's not exactly normal, Cass" Chance asserted. "And whoever fathered _you_ probably _is_ a freak."

Cassie stomped her foot on the ground. "That is _so _uncalled for! You listen here…"

Alexis snapped her fingers. "Focus! Pay attention! Concentrate! We have a case to work on here!"

"Don't snap at me!" Cassie snapped. "Who died and left _you_ in charge?"

"First, that was uncalled for, in bad taste, unnecessary" Alexis pouted. "And _second_, I'm in charge because I'm terrific, excellent, superb, and fantastic."

"Don't those all mean the same thing?" Cassie balked. "Oh, and bravo on being humble, by the way."

_Whoa. Déjà vu. _Chancellor chuckled, but at the same time he was deathly afraid. For some reason, a Cassie/Alexis fight seemed like something to steer clear of.

Luckily, there was a peacekeeper among them. "Triplex, Cassandra, _please_" Ben pleaded. "It is a shame to Mrs. Noble's memory to be arguing over such trivial things! Now, I'm not saying that these things aren't worth arguing about, but not now. There is much work to be done, no?"

Cassandra shot Ben a look, but his pure, sincere face softened her demeanor. "Alright then" she conceded. "What's _your_ alibi then, Ben?"

"Ah yes…" Ben started. "You couldn't say I have one… I was sleeping in one of the guest bedrooms, as far as I remember." He thought for a minute. "I'd say I was sleeping from around 9:45 until someone woke me up and told me the news…"

"I can verify, confirm, prove that" Alexis nodded. "I remember entering one of the rooms, and I accidentally barged in on you." She knocked on her head softly. "That was around… 10:00, I suppose."

"So, wait" Chancellor asked. "What exactly _is _youralibi then, Miriam?"

"_Triplex_" she insisted. "And if you _must_ know, I was talking with Zak for a good part of it. I'd say…" she frowned. "Come to think of it, I ran into him right after I barged in on _you_ Ben, so I guess I was with him from 10:00 until the body was found."

"Alright then…" Ben nodded slowly. "I guess then, for the purposes of our work, we should assume that none of _us_ committed the crime…"

"You might add _me_ to that list" Morage commented as he walked Jack off the ship. "I was on the deck the whole time." He sighed. "Hell, last I saw of her, she was walking the upper deck. Never imagined it'd be my last glimpse ever…"

"I met a girl who sang the blues… and I… asked her for some happy news…" Jack began to sob. "But she just smiled and turned away!"

"Oh great" Grumbles grumbled. "He's slipping back into it… he must be getting worse…" With quick steps, he and Aegis led Mr. Noble off the ship.

Chance watched them go, then turned back to face the group. "Alright then!" he said, trying for enthusiasm. "First things first, we need to make a thorough search of the ship!"

Alexis held her arms up in the shape of an X. "Wrong. False. Incorrect" she said sternly.

"What I think she means, Chance" Ben explained "is that 1) investigating the scene is the police's job, and 2) interfering with the investigation any Moore than we already have is, technically, illegal." He put a hand behind his head. "Not that investigating ourselves is _bad_ mind you, but…"

"Wait, wait, wait" Chance interrupted. "You guys are seriously going to let something as serious as this in the hands of the _professionals?_"

"Well…. Yes" Alexis said with an awkward smile. "That's… kind of what normal people do, Chance."

"B-but…" Chance stuttered. "Don't you guys follow the WWWSD rule of criminal law?"

Alexis and Ban gave his blank stares. Cassie sighed. "What Would William Shatner Do" she explained.

"Exactly!" Chance stated, completely serious. "And I know for a _fact_ that _William Shatner_ would not be content with sitting around and waiting for the police to bring evidence in court tomorrow!"

"Chancellor." Alexis smiled. "_Dearest_ Chancellor." She leaned in close to his face, and stared him down. "We're going to go down to the detention center. We're going to talk to Mr. Culligan, and then we're going home until the trial tomorrow. _COMPREHEND?_"

For the fifth time in several years, Chancellor feared for his life.

-Boston Detention Center. 7/10. 11:30 pm.

"It was nice of them to let us in, considering visiting hours are over" Cassie noted.

"Are you kidding me?" Chance said incredulously. "One look from Ben vying for sympathy will melt _anyone's_ heart, _particularly_ seeing as the guard was a woman."

"I am sure that your face would invoke the same kind of feelings, monsieur" Ben smiled thankfully.

"_HELLO?!?_" Alexis nearly screamed. "What about the person who's _actually _a woman, huh?" She placed a finger on her lips and posed cutely. "Wouldn't _I_ get the same kind of reaction, even from a woman?"

Ben, Cass, and Chance looked at her. "Meh" they said in unison. Alexis stamped her foot, outraged, and then went about assuring herself how terrific, excellent, superb, and fantastic she was.

"_I'M BEING GUILTY! I'M BEING GUILTY!_" came a Scottish voice from the other side of the glass.

_… NOT what I wanted to hear, if I'm honest._

"Oh, Ms. Lexington, I'm being guilty as sin when it comes to having fallen for you!" Culligan said, clutching his heart dramatically and staring at Alexis.

Alexis beamed. "See? I really am terrific, excellent…"

"BWAHAHA!" Culligan burst into laughter. "I'm being sorry, Ms. Lexington" he said, wiping away a tear from his eye. "But I couldn't be helping myself. If that's honestly being the kind of reaction you're expecting from men, you'll being much disappointed, lassie." He smiled warmly. "Not that you're being hard on the eyes, mind yeh, but that kind of confession just isn't happening these days, lassie."

Alexis, torn between crying in a corner and shouting angrily at the other four people in the room, chose instead to sit down. Culligan sighed. "Ahc, and I suppose, seeing as I was leading you all astray back there, I should be coming out right now and telling yeh, I'm innocent."

"I find that hard to believe" Chancellor said solemnly. "After all, you don't like chocolate covered strawberries." He looked Culligan straight in the eye. "Which means that you're rotten to the core, and deserve to be tied to and scraped against the side of a twenty-story, concrete building, with your eyes taped open so you can see every single minute of James Belushi stripping to the tune 'Crazy Car'." Culligan's face screwed up in mock horror, and Chancellor laughed. "Oh c'mon! That's the second time today! You _think_ you'd know better by now!"

"Admittedly, Chancellor" Ben said softly, the same look of horror on his face. "The incredible complexity of that insult is immensely…" Ben paused. "Oh… what's the word…"

"Chilling? Haunting? Terrifying? Unnerving? Frightening? Scary?" said you-know-who.

"I'll be going with 'G', all of the above" Culligan said, shaking his head.

Chancellor laughed. "I'm _pretty_ sure that answer's worth $32,000." He sighed, than sat down. "But in all seriousness, Mr. Culligan, we need to get down to business." He cracked his neck. "If you haven't figured it out by now… I doubt you have, seeing as you don't like strawberries… but the three of us are representing you in court tomorrow. You understand, of course, we'll be needing your full cooperation if we're to represent you effectively."

"Of course" Culligan said with a nod.

"Good to hear it, monsieur" Ben nodded. "Now, first thing is first I suppose, could you be troubled to tell us your whereabouts tonight?"

"Alright then, laddie" Culligan said, thinking back. "I was being in the below deck bar from up just before 10:00. There are being plenty of people who can testify to that. Then, when I was coming up from the bar, I was noticing Mrs. Noble walking about on the deck. I was needing to talk to her about something, so I eventually was entering the room… at around 10:20, I'm supposing." He gulped hard. "When I was entering… she was already dead. I was being shocked, and seeing the poker lying there…"

"You. Didn't." Alexis said, head in her hands.

"I did" Culligan nodded sadly. "I picked it up. When the shock of what was happening was finally setting in, I lost it and ran. Then the young Mr. Newton was catching me, finding me actions suspicious and…" He smiled slightly. "Here I'm being now."

"So you didn't see Mrs. Noble at all until…" Alexis asked.

"Nope" Culligan said, shaking his head.

"Alright then" Chance nodded. "That's all I can think of… anything else you want to say, Mr. Culligan?"

"Well, there is being one thing" Culligan said. "And I'm not even being sure if this is important or not, but… when I was coming up from the bar… and even afterward when I was finding the body… I couldn't help but be feeling that I was hearing Beethoven's Choral Fantasy."

"Beethoven's… Choral Fantasy?" Cassie asked softly.

Culligan thought for a moment, then nodded. "Aye. Definitely the Choral Fantasy. A bit hard to be distinguishing from 'Ode to Joy', but… I'm sure of it." He scratched his chin. "It was being completely flawless, too" the Scotsman mused. "Might've been a recording…"

"Yes, well, that's important, significant, imperative" Alexis said caustically, rising from her chair. "Best of luck tomorrow, Mr. Culligan." She turned and left, and the other three took the hint and did the same.

"I will be honest with you…" Ben mused as they walked out into the parking lot. "I am not exactly confident about this case, Chance…"

"Don't worry about it" Chance smiled. "Everything will work out, you'll see."

"Beethoven's Choral Fantasy…" Cassie whispered under her breath.

"Why do you keep saying that?" Chance asked.

"No reason!" she said suddenly, jumping.

_Cue psych-locks… if only I had a Magatama… and this were a video game instead of real life… and I knew a spirit medium… and… oh, whatever._

"Oh! Chancellor!" Ben gasped suddenly. "I almost forgot, I wonder if I could bother you with a question?"

"Go ahead" Chance nodded, still wondering about Cassie.

"Well… perhaps I have not been in this country long enough but… I did not know they even _made_ green Corvettes, monsieur."

"Happens all the time" Chance replied in Newtonian fashion.

Author's note corner (if you're only here for the story, STOP! DON'T GO ON!):  
This was hard for me to write. Nevertheless, I think I've got all the contradictions sorted out in my head, monsieur, mademoiselle (whatever the gender of the reader may be). We're looking for a 1-1 hit/review ratio for this one, so I hope it was good!

(Wow… 1-1 hit/review ratio. If that happened, I think I would die of happiness.)

In-depth: Gilligan P. Culligan.

No. I'm not misinformed. I _know_ that Scottish people don't actually talk like this. But perhaps a Scottish person with only a tenuous grasp of the English language would talk like this, no? And if not, then it's just another speech idiosyncrasy. You _know_ you love them, just like you secretly wish Liam Sirius were the main character.

There's a P there, so I'm assuming you've already got a middle name… : Right you are! It's Pelican. Yup. It's a seabird, and it makes the whole name kind of lyrical. Gilligan Pelican Culligan. Simply Amaxing, if I do say so myself.

Second mandatory question, favorite song! : 'Bonnie Taylor Shakedown' by Hellogoodbye. (OMG! FORESHADOWING!) And now you'll all listen to it to satisfy your curiosity.

Is he really only wearing a diver's suit and fishnets? : He's a fisherman! What do you expect? But that's actually his formal wear; his normal clothes would be dirty, worn out t-shirts, jackets, and jeans. So no, he's not a complete Freakazoid, like some of the other characters in this story.

What exactly goes for complete Freakazoid in your book? : Not much, I'm afraid. There's Chancellor… maybe Ne' Chrome… and… yeah, that's about it.

Name Origins!

I was remiss in mentioning him last time, so…

Stradivarius DuClaw: Stradivarius is the best kind of violin available. They're extremely old, but they're ridiculously well made, and regarded as the finest in the world. DuClaw, in addition to being the name of an outstanding restaurant, references the insanely long fingernails on his right hand.


	12. Part 5

Disclaimer:

Disclaimer: Who's the boom king? _I'm_ the boom king! Who owns Ace Attorney? _I_ don't own Ace Attorney!

Except… this really… doesn't have much to do with Ace Attorney so… meh, whatever.

Turnabout of the Ancient Mariner

(Trial, Part 1)

Silence.

Jaden Friday looked at his wrist, where one would normally wear a watch. Granted, he was in prison, so his watch had been confiscated, but the general impression of waiting for someone was still given off.

"This is about the time somebody comes to complain to me, so…" he said, looking around. After waiting for five minutes, he stretched, and stood up abruptly. "Ah, screw it, I need to get back to tunneling."

-District Courthouse, Main Lobby. 7/11. 9:30 am.

"You _had_ to say yes, didn't you?"

Tanya glared at Chancellor, arms crossed tightly against her chest. "You _had_ to take the case, didn't you? You couldn't have let the other _two, perfectly competent_ attorneys take care of it, could you?" She rapped her Stiletto heels sharply on the tile floor. "Now granted, Chancellor, I don't expect much from you, I really don't, but one would _think_ you could find enough common sense in your peanut-sized brain to _pass_ on a case now and again, _particularly _one that _someone else is already on!_! Do you _want_ me to hate you?"

"Maybe" Chance winked, but Tanya was not amused. "Oh, come on!" he said, his shoulders sinking back, "It's not like this is some _absolutely, horrible_ thing that will jeopardize…"

"It _is_ Chancellor" Tanya said, eyes closed. "Why don't you understand that?" She shuddered slightly. "Honestly, this is the _worst_ thing either of us have ever done to the other…"

"Hey, that's not true" Chance defended. "Remember that time you rented _Manos: The Hands of Fate_ and suggested we _watch_ the movie for a change?"

Tanya shrunk back. "Well…. Ok… the second worst thing."

"That's not true either!" Chance grinned. "There was also _Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, Child Bride_… not to mention all of those films with Bela Lugosi..."

"HEY!" Tanya yelled. "I _like_ Bela Lugosi, okay?"

"Exactly!" Chance sobbed heavily. "It's so _hard_ some times… coming over and seeing that you want to watch _Bride of the Monster_ again…"

Tanya watched Chance cry for a minute, than shook her head. "You… are _so…_odd." Chancellor continued sobbing overdramatically. "Chancellor… Chancellor, movies are nothing to cry about…"

"And neither is this!" he suddenly laughed, causing Tanya to shirk back. "Tanya, I've _told_ you, I don't _care_ if you want to kill me in there!" He shook his head, and stepped closer to her. "As long as we both do our jobs right and the truth come out eventually…" he said softly. "That's all that matters, right?"

Tanya bit her lip, and looked at Chancellor with wide eyes. "No" she said softly. "There's much Moore to it than that…"

Chancellor looked at her for a minute. _She's hurting on the inside. Can't you see that?_ His face reprimanded him (there were mirrors in the lobby). _I think you _know_ what you have to do, Chancy._

"Come here" Chancellor whispered, gripping her tightly in his arms for a minute. "I'll make sure not to say anything, ok?" he said softly.

"Promise?" she choked back.

Chanced hesitated for a minute, and then nodded. "Yeah" he said softly before kissing her lightly on the forehead. "Now go on. It'd look bad if the 'scourge of all defense attorneys' was seen like this, wouldn't it?" he teased. Tanya smiled and held on to him for a second, looking at him with such affection that he hadn't seen in weeks. She grabbed his chain, pulled him down to her level and kissed him, before walking off energetically towards the prosecutor's office.

Chancellor sighed. _Well, I've made a promise that's going to be near impossible to keep, are you happy now?_

_Yes._ His face answered back. _I'm proud of you Chancy._

"There are so many things wrong with what I just saw, it isn't even funny" came a raspy voice from behind him, interrupting Chance's self-conversation.

Chance whirled around. "_How the hell do you _do_ that?_" he screamed, shocked at how silently the man had snuck up on him. "And what exactly do you _mean_ by saying that, huh?"

"Genetics" Stradivarius DuClaw said in answer to the first question. "And it's exactly as I said, the current main pairing in the sick and twisted dramedy called _Your Life_ is wrong on every single possible level." He shook his head. "For one thing, it _screams_ of 'fan service', seeing as both of you look like women, but _more importantly_" Stradivarius said loudly, taking a step closer to Chance. "Tanya, despite her reputation, is… impressionable." He leaned his face into Chance's, so they were practically touching. "I don't want to see her thrown for a loop by an immature _flake_ like you, understood?"  
Chancellor thought of retorting by somehow using the word dandruff, but decided against it. _You don't know how much power he _has_ in the prosecutor's office,_ he told himself, _so don't do anything stupid._

"You don't have to worry" Chance said, holding his ground. "I don't plan on peeling off anytime soon." _Meh… couldn't help it._

DuClaw gave a small grunt, smirked, and spun around quickly. "I'll hold you to that" he threatened, before storming off towards the prosecutor's office.

Chance looked after him for a minute and scratched his head. _Why do I feel like I've just narrowly escaped being shot by an overly protective father?_

_Because you're in love_ his face said back.

Chancellor gasped, and his eyes widened. He stood still for a minute, lost in thought. _Good gravy, I am _he realized, and walked slowly towards the defendant's lobby.

-District Courthouse, Defendant's lobby 2. 7/11. 9:41 pm.

Cassie was waiting for him when he walked in, still lost in thought. "It's about time" she commented. "We've been meaning to talk to you about something."

"We? Something?" Chance muttered absent-mindedly.

"Yes, little missy. _We. Something._" Said Ricky, also waiting in the lobby in all his mismatched glory. "About Tanya…"

"Oh!" Chance laughed, snapping back to reality. "Sorry guys, but you're a bit late. We've already patched things up for the time being!"

Cassie eyes him suspiciously. "When?"

"Just… maybe five minutes ago?" Chance answered.

"And how long did this _take_?" Ricky asked, equally suspicious.

"…Five minutes?" Chance replied.

Ricky and Cassie looked at each other and sighed heavily. "And, you honestly think," Cassie continued asking, "that a five minute conversation is going to be enough to get you through _every single time_ the two of you have to go against each other in court?"

"Y…yeah?" Chance stuttered.

Awkward silence.

"Chancy, Chancy" Ricky said condescendingly, wrapping one arm around his best friend. "Let me tell you a little story, ok?"

"Story time!" Chance cheered, clapping his hands excitedly.

"You see, a long time ago at Boston College, there was this sweet little boy who was dating a _beautiful_ woman. She liked nearly everything about him, he respected her for who she was on the _inside_, and he loved her with his _whole_ heart and soul."

"Aaaaaaaaaaw" Cassie cooed.

"_AMEN _sister!" Ricky yelled. "But you see, this guy and this girl were going through a rough patch" he continued. "Sensing that something had to be done, the nice guy went to his one friend and asked him what to do. But you see, the friend turned about to be this Filthy McNasty backstabber type, and he told his friend that as long as the nice guy addressed the problem occasionally in conversation, without ever talking about it in-depth, that everything would work out." Ricky shook his head sadly. "Well, the nice guy took his friends advice, and three months later the love of his life was going out with the nasty friend, and his heart was broken."

"Wow." Cassie said, her eyes tearing up. "That… that story is about _you_, isn't it Ricky?" she said softly.

"Yeah, it is" Chance confirmed. He shoved Ricky's hand away. "That's how he stole Melissa MacDonald away from me in my second year of college!"

"_And you _THOUGHT_ you would have _LEARNED_ something from it!_" Ricky laughed, flicking Chance playfully on the head.

"I really did _hate_ college…" Chance muttered.

"That's not the point," Cassie said. "As much as Ricky deserves to hang for what he did…"

"_Don't you think that's a little extreme?_" Ricky shouted, backing away from Cassie. (Is it necessary to say who's in charge here?)

"No… I don't…" Cassie said flatly. "But _anyway,_ I think the message that your 'friend' is trying to get across is _still_ painfully obvious here." She eyed Chancellor, concerned. "You don't want me to rant on the subject, do you?"

Chancellor shuddered. "No… anything but that, please." He ran a hand through his snow colored hair. "Alright, I'll be sure to sit down and have a _long_ talk with Tanya after this, ok?"

"Proud of you man" Ricky said. "Just remember, I'll literally _kill_ you if you mess this up, understand?"

Chancellor laughed. "Understood." He and Ricky rapped fists, and then Ricky left. "ALRIGHT!" Chancellor yelled. "LET'S DO…" he stopped. "Um, Cassie? Where is everyone?"

"Probably eating breakfast," she said, checking her watch. "The trial doesn't start until 10:30, after all."

"But I was told… argh." He slumped over. "Morage did it to me again… stupid, no good, dear old boss o' mine."

"I'm not sure if 'dear old boss o' mine' counts as an insult, Moore" grumbled Morage as he walked in, Mr. Noble in tow. "And rest assured, I didn't just do it to mess with you." He glared at Chancellor. "We need to talk."

_Good gravy. What is this, 'meaningful conversation day'?_

"Let's get fucked up and die…" Noble sang randomly, wandering around the room. "I'm speaking… figuratively, of course… like the last… time…" He burst into tears.

Chance stared. "It's not polite to stare, Moore" Morage was quick to remind him.

"Oro, sorry about it that." Chance said with a shake of the head. "What exactly…"

"He's gotten so bad, it's not even funny." Morage whispered. "I went to check up on him last night; I caught him just about to _hang_ himself." He shook his head, and for the first time in Chancellor's life, Morage had a look of pity on his face. "The poor guy's gotten so depressed he can _only_ speak in lyrics now… and I've got to keep a pretty close eye on him to make sure he doesn't do anything drastic."

"Under the curse… under the bad curse of nightmares…" Noble sang off key. "Tonight… it's time to… die…" Tears again.

"Anyway!" Chancellor said abruptly, stopping himself from staring again. "You wanted to talk about something?"

"Right… I wanted to tell you…" Morage whispered even softer. "Culligan is guilty, there's no doubt in my mind."

Chance gave Morage a funny look. "Not exactly the words of encouragement I wanted to hear, Mr. Thenue" he replied. He leaned in closer. "Why do you say that? I mean; I know the guy doesn't like chocolate covered strawberries, but other than that… I mean; he doesn't really seem to have a _reason_ to murder his friend's wife, does he?"

Morage looked away, and muttered a name under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Bonnie lies over the ocean!" Mr. Noble sang. "Bonnie lies over the sea!"

Chancellor groaned. "Mr. Noble, please, can you possibly…"

"No, he's right" Morage interrupted. "That's the reason."

Chancellor stared at Morage blankly. He cocked his head, and gave a confused "oro?"

Morage sighed. "Bonnie Culligan." He said. "I'm sure the prosecution will bring this up, but…" He looked away. "Kenny… did something years ago… and because of that Bonnie..." He shook his head suddenly. "It's not my place to say. Either way, Culligan's bore resentment to Kenny ever since." He looked Chancellor in the eye. "Chancellor, I hate to admit this, but if you take charge of this case… the truth will come out… and we'll lose." He shook his head. "I know you won't even consider this, but… try not to talk, alright?"

"Oh yeah, sure" Chance nodded with a small grin. "Whatever you say Mr. Thenue."

"Yes, I thought you might say… eh?" Morage snapped to attention. "Oh. Well then…" he fidgeted, as if unsure what to do with himself. "Jack! Let's get to the viewing lobby!"

"I said… don't you know… you said… you don't know… I said…"

"Yes, yes" Morage nodded. "I'm taking you out of this room into another, come along now."

After they left, Cassie shook her head in disappointment. "Really, Chancellor? You're throwing the game? I thought better of you."

Chancellor smiled. "Let's just say I'm relying on my teammates for this one. Besides…" he lowered his voice. "If I don't say anything, Tanya won't have any reason to hate me."

Cassie thought about his for a minute, and then nodded. "I can live with that" she said. "Lucky you, no diatribe today."

-Courtroom 6. 10:30 am.

The bailiff stood up on the witness stand and thrust both hands into the air. "_Judge Scotty in the house!_" he yelled.

"Hoo hoo hoo…." Chancellor barked. After seeing he was the only one, he gave an embarrassed wave to the crowd and sat down.

"Typical Moore" Morage grumbled from the gallery. "Can't he take anything seriously?"

"No… that's Liam's job." Cassie said from behind him. "_Chance's_ job is to act immature and then have everyone 'give him another Chance'." She shook her head. "Honestly, Morage, haven't you figured out how this story _works?_"

"You certainly talk about that Sirius fellow a lot" Morage jabbed. "Even thought he _is_… oh, what would you call him? A 'minor character'." He grinned evilly, completely oblivious to how immature his remark had been.

"Well, Morage, let's see" Cassie retaliated. "Forgetting the fact that he _happened _to go to my school for four years, he has that annoying speech pattern, that squeaky voice, that strange hairdo that makes him look like the Statue of Liberty… and let's not forget that he scalded me half to death in a 'power shower'." She shook her head. "There'd be something wrong with me if I _couldn't_ remember the guy."

"Didn't you go to prom with him?"

Cassie whirled around quickly, and almost ran into the laid-back figure of Thompson Moore, leaning casually against the front of the next bench. "That's what I heard from _him_ anyway," he explained, pointing next to him at Stradivarius DuClaw.

Cassie squinted at DuClaw. "_Must_ you do these things to me?" she whispered harshly. "And if I might ask." She turned her gaze sharply back towards Thompson. "Who the heck are _you?_"

"Chancellor's father, of course" the doctor laughed. "Dr. Thompson Moore. You honestly couldn't tell? _So_ many people say that he looks _just like me…_" He winked. "But let's not get off topic here, _didn't _you…"

"It was in self-defense!" Cassie yelled. "I knew he'd be there, and because of that I knew _someone_ was going to die! He asked me to prom and _I_ figured if I said 'no' _I'd_ be the one to go!" She shuddered. "Self-preservation is the most basic of human instincts after all. You see in _my_ book, Freud was completely wrong. The thing that motivates all human beings _isn't_ sex drive, no matter _how_ good a movie it might have been, the main thing that motivates a human being is the continuance of it's _own _life span! _To hell_ with the next generation! Human beings were made for the present! Or do you not _live_ in the present; is that it, Tommy? Are you a past-dweller? A backwards-walker? If you are, then I'd seriously suggest…"

She stopped only at the sight of Thompson chuckling to himself slightly. "Chancellor was right," he said casually. "I _do_ like you." Cassie blushed, and Thompson chuckled again. "If you don't mind me asking, who _did_ die?"

"Our English teacher, Ms. Prose" Cassie said with a frown. "She was ninety-three, but perfectly healthy until that night. She had a heart attack during the Homecoming Court dance, tipped over the punch bowl, and died some poor girl's white dress pink! By the time they got her to the hospital, she was already gone."

"God knows it was her time" DuClaw remarked. "Even _I_ had Ms. Prose for Senior English."

"I _liked_ Ms. Prose!" Cassie yelled. "She's the one who sparked my interest in debate freshman year, and shaped me into the argument queen I am today!"

"She _deserved_ to die then," Morage grumbled.

"You know, you make me want to shout" Noble nodded weakly in agreement.

"Very good Jack" Morage nodded sympathetically. "Now hush up, all of you. Look's like the trial's starting."

"… So yeah, that's why I wear my hair in the shape of a pentagram." Scotty finished explaining. "Not only that, but Lia finds it… 'Mystical'." He held a finger to the side of his nose. "Let's just say, it's because of this haircut that I have a daughter."

"Ok" Alexis said, clutching her sides tightly. "That information was unnecessary, needless, superfluous… not to mention disturbing, chilling, and disquieting."

"Is this how trials usually start in America, monsieur?" Ben whispered to Chancellor.

"It's how the _good_ ones start, Benjamin" Chance winked.

Ben blinked once. "Benvolio" Ben corrected patiently. "And might I ask why Ms. Cassandra is not here with us?"

"Ben, this bench is _already_ jam-packed, crowded, and full" Alexis griped. "Besides, she's not a lawyer; she won't be of any practical use anyway."

"That's not true, you know" Chance objected.

"What happened to your 'no talking' promise?"

"That doesn't count towards…"

"Yes it _does_. So shut up, hum up, hush up, and quiet up." Alexis blinked. "Though I suppose that should be quiet _down…_"

"The same applies to _you_, Ms. Lexington." Scotty reprimanded. "If you expect to lead the defense in this case, I'd suggest you take your own advice." Alexis pouted overdramatically. Scotty sighed, shook his star-shaped coif, and turned to Tanya. "Ms. Krasivaya? Your opening statement, if you would."

"Yes, your honor" Krasivaya nodded, dusting off one shoulder of her black dress. She cleared her throat, and walked to the center of the courtroom. "There's an old American idiom that I, admittedly, only quite recently learned how to use properly." She threw a glance at Chancellor and smiled. "The idiom is this: 'Is the pope Catholic?'" She shook her head. "A stupid question for anyone to ask, indeed. Well, your honor, I'd like to propose a synonym to that idiom, namely, 'Is Gilligan P. Culligan guilty?'" She turned to face the jury. "The man was seen _running from the room_, carrying a _very_ incriminating paper with him, and does _not deny_ having stolen it from the safe!"

"You admitted to something like that?" Chancellor whispered worriedly.

"I was thinking it'd being best to tell the truth, y'know." Culligan shrugged.

_… Why am I… _we_… always burdened with defending _honest_ people?_

"The police have done an incredibly thorough investigation of this crime," Tanya continued. "And after all of their evidence is presented… there will be even _less_ room for doubt than there is leg room in Coach class seating."

"That's entirely dependant on the airline" Thompson commented from the gallery. "And the _plane_ for that matter. You shouldn't be letting stuff like that slide!"

_That's entirely dependant on the airline_ Chancellor thought _and the _plane_ for that matter… ah, but I promised I wouldn't say anything… damn._

"Thank you, Ms. Krasivaya" Scotty nodded. "And a very good use of foreign expressions, I might add."

"Thank you, your honor" Tanya smiled. "I'll admit I had some help with that one."

"Nevertheless!" Scotty exclaimed. "Now…erm… defense?" Scotty pointed to each in turn. "Whichever one of you is making the opening statement, hop to it."

"Thank you, monsieur." Benvolio smiled, and the jury's preconceived notions of attorneys as dishonest and disreputable money-grubbers were dispelled. "Ahem."

"There exists such a thing as luck in this world. There is good luck, such as my good fortune of being noticed by an American law firm and being given the privilege to stand in front of you today, and there is bad luck, such as Mr. Culligan's accidentally stumbling across a body and being caught when running away from it in shock. We hold that Mr. Culligan is but an unlucky man, and that he had absolutely nothing to do with the murder of Mrs. Kendra Noble." Ben looked deeply into the eyes of each juror. "That is why, even though she was close to us; even though our boss, Mr. Noble, is torn to pieces because of her murder, we stand here before you, willing to fight for her supposed killer's freedom." His bottom lip trembled. "We want, above all else, for justice to be served." Ben paused for a minute, and then spoke again. "Not guilty." He sat down, and the entire courtroom (save Tanya and Scotty) gave him a standing ovation, with random cheers of 'you rock!' and 'I want to have your baby!' thrown in. Benvolio blushed. "Erm… thank you, Mademoiselles, but I do not believe that that is a good idea… I am not saying that your having a baby _in general_ is a bad idea, of course, do not misunderstand me, but…"

"You're good Ben" Chance said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "Your paragraph has run on long enough."

"Now _you're_ doing it," Alexis mumbled.

"Yeah I know, Miriam… and it's something I always swore I'd never do, too…"

"Just pay attention. It looks like she's calling the first witness."

"Detective Spade! If you would please come to the stand?" Tanya asked.

"Reporting for duty, Ma'am!" came an enthusiastic bark. Tracy Spade walked in slowly and took the stand, his burly shoulders and sizable girth making him barely fit in the chair.

"Mr. Spade…" Tanya smiled. "Well, how are you, first of all?"

"Urm?" Spade flinched back slightly, surprised. "Well… I'm perfectly fine I suppose, Ms. Krasivaya." He scratched his stubble. "Barque… he's my dummy… he's in the shop for repairs, but other than that…" He smiled broadly. "Everything's going just fine! I even remembered not to hit on Chancellor today!"

"Well… yes" Tanya said unsurely. "I suppose I should thank you for that." She smiled peerlessly. "Would you tell us what the police dug up on this case, Mr. Spade? As quickly as possible, if you would, the defense would suffer terribly if it was long and drawn out."

"Very well then!" He responded with a quick salute. "The first thing I'd like to address is the results of the autopsy… We brought Mrs. Noble back to the lab, looked over as meticulously and scrutinously as we could…"

**INTERJECTION!**

"'Scrutinously' isn't a word, your honor!" Alexis objected. "Synonyms for 'meticulously' include carefully, scrupulously, thoroughly."

BANG! BANG! Rang the gavel. "Ms. Lexington?" Scotty said, blowing at his hair. "As _intriguing_ as this is… I'm finding it hard to care." He banged the gavel again. "OVERRULED! You may continue, detective."

"Thanks, Scotty" Spade nodded. "Anyway, we looked over the body as _scrutinously_ as we could, and we found that the results…" He chuckled slightly. "Matched the field autopsy results _perfectly_. Did I tell you that Zak was a genius or what?"

"So wait…" Alexis interrupted. "Your saying that your _entire forensic lab_ took _hours_ to do what Newton did in a matter of minutes?"

"Well… yeah!" Spade laughed. "That's just how good my protégé is, I suppose!"

"Either that, or how completely idiotic our police force is" Stradivarius sniped from the gallery.

"Oh come now, you're a _prosecutor_ aren't you? Aren't you and the police on the same side?" Thompson asked with a broad smile.

Stradivarius rolled his eyes and leaned back against the bench, blowing up at his hair. "You work in the same building as morgue workers do; does that mean _you_ do the same job?"

"We both try to make our patients as comfortable as possible, yes." Thompson retaliated calmly.

"… and that's why I only have _half_ of my face covered in stubble!" Spade finished with a deep laugh.

"Caring…so…little…" Alexis groaned, leaning heavily on one hand. "Mr. Spade? If you would, can you move on to presenting _the case?_"

"Sure thing, Miriam!" Spade barked with a grin. Chance gave him a thumbs up and a wink from the bench, and was abruptly pummeled by Alexis. "The evidence against Mr. Culligan is…" He put a hand behind his head. "Well, I hate to say this, but it really _is_ irrefutable. For starters" he said, holding up a blood-covered poker. "This poker, the murder weapon, has Mr. Culligan's fingerprints all over it, as does the safe in Mr. Noble's room." He held up a picture of the safe. "As you can see, the safe has clearly been broken into, and what was stolen from it…"

"I'd like to take this one, Tracy" Tanya interrupted.

"Huh?" Spade gave a confused growl. "Well… sure, go right ahead… Ms. Krasivaya." He held out his hand awkwardly, motioning for her to go.

"What was stolen from the safe," she said poignantly, slowly extending her hand towards Spade. "Was a rather… shall we say, _incriminating_ document."

"Inculpating, convicting, condemnatory, accusatory" Alexis muttered under her breath.

"A document which, beyond the _shadow of a doubt" _she expressed, slamming the paper onto Scotty's desk dramatically. "Proves the 'reason, motivation, and rationale' of Mr. Culligan in this murder!" She said mockingly, glaring almost viciously at Alexis.

"Hey! Culligan man!" Chance whispered. "Twenty bucks that if a cat fight breaks out, Tanya wins."

"I'll be taking you on there, laddie" Culligan replied, shaking Chance's hand.

Fireplace Poker: The murder weapon. Bears the fingerprints of Culligan's left hand, as well as those of Kendra Noble, Jacopo Noble, Zak Newton, Athena Aegis, and Morage Thenue.

Safe Photograph (as opposed to a dangerous one): Shows the area around the safe. A holder for fireplace tools can be seen to the left of the safe, and a saw, crowbar, and stethoscope can be seen protruding from the bottom of the picture.

Safe Cracking Tools: A sparkling, yet recently used saw, a long, black crowbar, and a stethoscope. Found at the scene of the crime, and presumably used by Mr. Culligan.

Red Herring Company; budget records: 1.4 million dollars assigned to Public Affairs Office. (Crossed out, and then written over by hand.) _1.4 Mil embezzled by Bonnie._

"_What?_" yelled Scotty. "Ms. Krasivaya? What on _earth_ does embezzlement in a Scottish Herring Fishery have to do with this case?"

"I'd be happy to explain, Scotty" Tanya smiled. "You see…"

"NOT TODAY YOU DON'T!" Cassie yelled.

Tanya whirled around. "What? What do you…"

End of Chapter.

Author's note corner (Those of you… yeah, you know by now):

I've been busy.

This chapter was written in many, many different twenty-minute intervals of free time I happened to have. Usually, I get to devote at least half and hour at any given time… (Sigh). The price of being popular, I suppose.

Anyway, the first pieces of evidence are in, and the first witness will be taking the stand next time! Who will it be? What does Red Herring have to do with _anything?_ Tune in next… time… to find out!

Character Profile: Alexis Lexicon Lexington

First off, the name origin, since I actually haven't given the full one yet…

Lexicon comes straight off the cover of the dictionary in my house (it's _huge_, I've got no idea where it came from). The word actually means 'dictionary'.

Lexington was the first battleground of the revolutionary war. Hence, we get a connotation, nuance, and suggestion of someone being fiery and willing to fight. (Has anyone actually _been_ to Lexington? They have two colleges there… and that's pretty much it. It's like a ghost town, _and they still close their shops on Sundays!_)

Middle na… oh, nevermind… : Yeah. One step ahead of you.

Well then, what about her favorite song? Huh? HUH? : 'What I really meant to say' by Cyndi Thompson. Well… _someone_ has to have… 'questionable' tastes.

Why did you introduce _another_ beautiful woman character? Isn't Tanya enough for the entire world +1? : Well, yes, I suppose Tanya _is_ enough for the entire world+1, but we hear at Amaxing Fan Fiction Incorporated want to make _sure_ that there's enough fan service. When the movie comes out, you'll thank me.

The… movie? : Yeah! The movie! The only thing stopping production is that we can't find a feminine enough looking actor; other than that, we're all set! (Not the irony/ sarcasm/ sardonic wit in my voice. Everyone _knows_ it's going to be a TV show anyway).

If Lexy was a tree, what kind of tree would she be and why? : Barbara Walters reads this stuff? Huh. Anyway, she'd definitely be a holly tree, because even though it's short, it hurts like hell if you run smack dab into it.

… Not explaining how I know that.


	13. Part 6

Disclaimer: This is a fanfic. I'm making a note here: NOT MY OWN. It's hard to overstate my lack of ownership.

Ace Attorney. Own it they must, because: who else? For the good of all of us;

Except that the ones that are dead.

But there's no sense crying over every mistake,

You just keep on trying 'til the story is great

And the writing gets done, and you have a lot of fun

With the people who are STILL ALIVE!

That…. Probably didn't make a whole lot of sense, but… Skyler's on holiday. That's my excuse. (It's never the same without him around…)

Turnabout of the Ancient Mariner

(Trial, part 2)

Previously on "Chancellor Moore: Ace Attorney"…

Chancellor stood, hunched over his desk in defeat, Stradivarius DuClaw cackling away at the prosecutor's bench. "_Give up already, Moore!_" he taunted. "_You've got _nothing, _and you KNOW it!"_

_"I'll never give in!_" Chancellor shouted back, straightening up with resolve. "Not until I prove that _YOU KILLED MY FATHER!_"

"…killed your father?" DuClaw said, his face suddenly falling. "No, Chancellor… I… _AM_ your father!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO…

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" _Chancellor screamed, starting forward in his chair. The entire courtroom stared, not really knowing what to do. Alexis looked at him for a minute, and then motioned with her finger.

"Come here" she said daintily. Chancellor shook his head minutely and shifted backwards slightly. "Come here" she said in an even friendlier tone. Chancellor hesitated, inching slightly closer to Alexis. "Closer" she said, motioning with her finger again. After another moment's hesitation, Chancellor, quite bravely, walked up to Alexis.

And was promptly hit on the head with an enormous dictionary.

"Did you sincerely, genuinely, _seriously_ fall asleep during the _five minutes_ it took to call the next witness?"

"Yeah…" Chance said, rubbing his head. "Did you seriously pull a giant 'New Lexicon Edition' dictionary out of your who _knows_ where?"

Alexis shrank back. Chancellor smirked; satisfied that he'd shut her up for good. "Well you know what?" Alexis retorted, wanting nothing Moore than to wipe the look off Chancellor's face, "Strawberries aren't really fruit!"

Chance clamped his hands over his ears and cringed in pain that, for no apparent reason, was completely real and physical. "NO! IT'S NOT TRUUUUUUUE!!!!"

"Yes it is" Alexis said menacingly. She cleared her throat. "The strawberry is a _false fruit_, meaning the fleshy part is derived not from the plant's ovaries but from the peg at the _bottom _of the bowl-shaped hypanthium that holds the ovaries." She got in Chancellor's face. "That means… they've been _lying_ to you, all this time." Chance whimpered softly, his bottom lip trembling.

"AHEM!" Alexis whipped around quickly. "As much fun as it is to torment Mr. Moore," Tanya asserted, having somehow gotten two inches from Alexis without her noticing. "That is a pleasure reserved for _me_ only, understood?"

Alexis stood, mouth agape, unable to speak.

Ben rocked back and forth on his chair, covering his ears. "I didn't hear that, I didn't hear that, I didn't hear that…"

"OHOHOHO!" Culligan laughed, clapping Chancellor hard on the back. "Looks like _someone's_ been being a…" he stopped. "Someone's been being getting…. Someone's being lying…. Someone's luckying…" He sighed. "This damn censorship is being a bitch."

Chance said nothing. He only crossed his legs.

Tanya's eyebrows rose, and she smiled. "Also" she continued, choosing not to react to anything the other four had done, "I find it very unprofessional that you would waste valuable court time to _satisfy_ your sadistic urges." She turned away. "Do _try_ to control your hormones, will you, _Miriam_?"

Culligan leaned towards Chancellor. "That betting of ours is still being on, ay?"

"ORDEEEEEEEEEER UUUUUUUUUP!" yelled Scotty. "The prosecution's first witness has been on the stand for minutes now, _will_ _somebody DO something?_"

"Ah yes, don't worry about that at all, Scotty" Tanya shushed. "The witness will state her name and occupation."

"Um…" the witness muttered. "The name is… Athena Aegis… and I'm a defense attorney at Thenue and Noble…"

Chancellor's eyes grew as wide as silver dollars. "Tr…TripleA? Why is she testifying for the _prosecution?_" _Good Gravy! Agatha Christie was _right!

"You will do well to remember, Chancellor" Benvolio said seriously, arms crossed. "That Mr. Culligan is _Jacopo's_ friend only. Ms. Aegis is testifying because the truth of the matter, as she sees it, is that Mr. Culligan is a killer."

"Which isn't being true, by the way" Culligan interjected.

"I never said it was, monsieur" Benvolio said with an apologetic smile. "But I do not want Chancellor here to get the wrong impression of Ms. Aegis; you undertand, yes… 'laddie'?"

Culligan laughed deeply. "Ay laddie, I understand."

"As do I…" Chance mumbled. "It doesn't really look good to have our higher-ups testifying _against_ us though…" he grumbled under his breath, removing any doubt that he was Morage Thenue's true heir.

Benvolio flashed a large smile. "I am most grateful for your understanding, monsieur."

Tanya cleared her throat to attract the attention of the… (one…two…) six people in the courthouse not _already_ staring at her. "Ms. Aegis?" she smiled. "Perhaps you can first clear up the confusion surrounding this document?" She held up the Red Herring sheet.

Ms. Aegis nodded. "Kenny's been holding that over the Culligan's heads for years." She stated. "Basically, Bonnie Culligan…"

**Pardon Me!**

"But…" Ben said softly. "I somehow doubt that the witness has any direct knowledge or any way of knowing, for certain, that Mrs. Culligan committed any illegal action." He shook his head. "Any testimony the witness offers on the subject can only be classified as hearsay… am I wrong?"

"Nope." Aegis said, beaming. "Good catch, Ben! I _knew_ I wouldn't be able to get away with that!" She nodded her head exuberantly, chuckling to herself.

_Well that's new…_ Chance thought. _A witness congratulating an attorney for pointing out flaws in their testimony… Why can't _I_ ever get a witness like that?_

"Congratulations, Mr. Attorney" Tanya said with a flick of her hair. "The question was really Moore for effect anyway; the prosecution has done its research." She ducked under the desk for a minute (to the delight of all those seated behind the prosecution table) and surfaced with a large, obscenely heavy stack of papers. "There is more than enough proof here to show that Bonnie Culligan embezzled 1.4 million dollars from Red Herring Fisheries."

"Accepted into evidence…" Scotty groaned. "Oh, good God, that looks heavy…"

Mongo Stack: Basically, solid and quite heavy proof of Bonnie's embezzlement.

"The witness will now continue with her testimony, namely, Ms. Aegis; how is Mrs. Culligan's crime of years past related to this case?"

"Well, like I said" Aegis testified. "Kenny…well, I hate to speak ill of the dead, but she was a very… jealous person… and pretty defensive of Jack too. Kendra, and this isn't merely opinion, she actually talked to me about this, Kendra felt threatened by Bonnie; even though she was married to Gill, Kenny somehow got it in her head that Bonnie was too beautiful to be allowed to be near Jack for too long."

"Come to think of it" Alexis whispered to Ben and Chance, "Mrs. Noble always acted pretty odd around _me_ too…"

"Except… how exactly could you be classified as 'too beautiful?" Chance whispered back.

SMACK! Rang the dictionary as it caved in Chancellor's head.

"Anyway…" Aegis continued, "as you can imagine, when Kenny got hold of the embezzlement scandal, it was like Ralphy getting a Red Rider BB Gun for Christmas. She blackmailed the Culligans, and forced Bonnie to stay in Scotland even though Gill…" she looked away from the defense's bench. "Even though Gill kept sending for her."

"You don't seem very broken up by this, Mr. Culligan" Chance whispered.

"I was having time enough to be crying it out in solitude last night, laddie."

"Alright, Chance" Scotty grunted, looking at the white-haired attorney expectantly, "You can cross-examine now."

"Actually, _I'll_ be cross-examining, your honor" Alexis corrected.

Scotty raised his eyebrows and looked at Alexis oddly. "Are… are you allowed to do that?"

"Yes, affirmative, _of course_" Alexis said matter-of-factly. "It's not like _Chancellor Moore_ is the undisputed _king_ of cross-examination, after all."

_Perhaps not, but I'm close._ Chancellor thought. _I'm Moore of earl, I'd think._

"Not even close" Morage grumbled from the gallery, "You'd have to have injected lethal amounts of LSDX-25 to even _consider_ the possibility…"

"L…S…what?" Cassie asked, confused.

"A hallucinogenic painkiller" Thompson explained. "Strongest thing in the medical world right now."

"OOOOH!" Cassie said, snapping her fingers. "An anachronistic object that tells readers this takes place in the _recent future!_ How did I _not_ catch that?"

Thompson blinked, and then shook his head, smiling. "Whatever you want to call it, dear."

"Alright then" Alexis said, clearing her throat and approaching the witness stand. "Ms. Aegis, just clarify, elucidate, explicate a few things for me. When you say 'blackmail' you mean 'payment extorted by intimidation, as by threats of injurious revelations or accusations', correct?"

"Um…" Aegis thought over the wording for a moment. "Y…yes, that's what I meant."

"Thank you" Alexis nodded, "And when you say Mrs. Noble was 'defensive' of Jack, you mean…"

**OBJECTION!**

"I know I shouldn't be doing this," Chancellor interrupted, "but would the defense refrain from asking questions _just_ to clarify the definition of words? I'd like to progress far enough to break for lunch!"

"Objection sustained" Scotty nodded, banging his gavel. "Ms. Lexington? Do you have any questions concerning _the murder?_"

Alexis flushed, and bit her lip. "I… don't, actually… but" she straightened up. "I don't think that this testimony, authentication, or demonstration is what we need right now." She stomped on the floor, and puffed her chest out. "Ms. Aegis! Can you give any testimony that relates to the _night of the murder?_"

"Well… yes, actually. I can, Miriam" Aegis smiled.

"It's _Triplex!_" Alexis screamed, the shrillness causing the entire audience (except for DuClaw) to cringe and clutch their ears. "And…wait…" she slumped over, just realizing what Ms. Aegis has said. "You… you _can_?"

"Yes" Tanya nodded sharply, smiling. "The witness has also come prepared to testify about the night of the murder." She flicked her hair back and grinned. "Moore specifically, she can testify about the timeframe in which the murder occurred, and that Mr. Culligan did indeed enter the room during that time period!" She frowned. "Even if that _is_ glaringly obvious…"

**INTERJECTION!**

"Just because Mr. Culligan was in the room with the dead body _doesn't_ mean that he was the murderer! _THE TWO ARE __**NOT**__ SYNONYMS!_"

Chancellor smiled, and tapped Alexis lightly on the shoulder. "That was the first worthwhile objection you've raised today. Nice work."

Alexis flushed bright red, but whether out of embarrassment or anger, it was unclear.

SMACK! Rang the dictionary as it caved in Chancellor's head.

…Yeah. It was probably anger.

"Murder in the first degree…." Chancellor mumbled as he crawled back up.

Aegis shook her head, probably in disbelief that these two were among her firm's best and brightest, and began her testimony.

"Last night, from around 9:30 until around 10:00, Gill and I talked on the deck of the ship. Then he excused himself, saying specifically that _he had to go speak with Mrs. Noble._" She shrugged her shoulders. "And we all know that he was there at around the time when the death occurred, so…well, yeah, that's about it."

"Thanks, TripleA" Scotty said with a nod. "Ms. Lexington? Did you want to…"

**PROTESTATION!**

"I'll take that as a 'yes, affirmative, right-o'" muttered Scotty, blowing at the front of his hair.

"Ms. Aegis!" Alexis said; chest puffed out even farther, "the autopsy report gives a very wide range for the time of death! Between 9:00 and 10:00 I believe…"

"9:30 to 10:30, in fact, mademoiselle" Ben corrected patiently. "But it is only a murder trial, who cares about details?"

"That would have been _such_ a good burn if he knew how to burn people," Chance whispered to Culligan.

"RIGHT!" Alexis said, a smile forming on her face. "Ms. Aegis, you only saw Mr. Culligan for a _small fraction_ of this time span!"

"_HOW CAN YOU POSSIBLY SAY, CERTAINLY, POSITIVELY, WITHOUT DOUBT, THAT MR. CULLIGAN WAS IN THE ROOM AROUND THE TIME OF MRS. NOBLE'S DEATH??"_

"Because I saw _her_ too…" Ms. Aegis said before Alexis' outburst could cause a 'murmur murmur' scene. "Mrs. Noble I mean, I saw her before she died."

Alexis stood for a moment, mouth agape, and then slumped over. "You… you did?"

"Of course she did" Tanya commented, rolling her eyes. "I didn't bring her in simply to theorize about motives and track Mr. Culligan's whereabouts." She stretched slowly. "No… I never trained to become a defense attorney… I wouldn't know anything about calling pointless witnesses."

"Isn't it being uncomfortable to be crossing your legs all the time, laddie?" asked Culligan.

Chancellor shifted slightly in his seat, and looked up sharply. "Huh? Oh, no, I sit like this all the time. It helps me concentrate" Chancellor replied, nodding his head quickly. _Well… it's true enough, I suppose._

Culligan raised an eyebrow, gave a hearty, but silent, chuckle, and leaned back in his chair.

"This whole…" Scotty leaned his head over the back of his chair, waving one hand in a circle in the air "seeing Mrs. Noble thing is _probably_ important, so…" He wrenched himself upright suddenly. "You should _probably_ testify Moore to that effect, TripleA."

Aegis nodded. "Alright then, I'll…"

**INTERRUPTION OF CONVERSATION!**

"I'm sorry…" Alexis apologized. "It's just, your honor, you use the modifier 'probably' twice in a row." She cocked her head to the side. "It annoys, bothers, and irks me. Perhaps next time, you could say… 'Possibly?' or… 'almost certainly?'… It would just… I mean…" She bit her tongue, as Scotty was looking down on her with narrow, slit-like eyes.

_Miriam: Half-wit, moron, idiot, or simpleton? YOU decide. _

"You should _probably_ stop talking now, ok, Miriam?" Scotty seethed. He cleared his throat, and adopted (temporarily) a professional tone of voice. "TripleA, if you would continue… or restart… it's more like 'begin to begin with' actually…" He sighed and shook his head. "Oh, just testify for Pete's sake."

"Yes, your honor" Aegis nodded with a smile."

"Well, you see, I told you that Culligan left me at around 10:00, right? Well, I had that moment where, when you finish talking with someone after a long conversation, you immediately look for someone else to keep talking to… you know what I'm talking about, right? Anyway, I looked up at the balcony, and I saw Ms. Aegis walking around. She walked out of my sight shortly after, but I'm absolutely sure it was her." She thought for a moment, and then nodded firmly. "Positively sure."

Chancellor's bottom lip trembled, and he made a soft, almost indiscernible whining sound.

"You're not still being broken up over Mrs. Noble's dying now, are yeh?" Culligan asked, elbowing Chance in the ribs.

"It's not that…" Chancellor whispered, rubbing his ribs in pain and trying to contain himself. "It's just… the first _major_ contradiction just popped up… and it's so _glaringly_ obvious…" He chuckled. "Heh, _glaringly_, I like that. Anyway, it's so obvious and I just want to sing 'objection' at the top of my lungs but…" He looked across the courtroom. "I can't. And, I don't expect you to sympathize with me, seeing as if I was in your place, I'd want my defense attorney to scream objection at every small inconsistency he could find, but…"

"It's being about _her_, right?" Culligan asked, pointing across the room at Tanya.

"Yeah" Chance said with a quick nod.

"I'm understanding _completely_, laddie." Culligan said with a smile. "Let's just be hoping that one of the other's is bright enough to catch on."

-

It's time to make this interactive! What do _you_ think is the contradiction? It could be from any part of Mrs. Aegis' testimony, and could concern anything that's been introduced in the story so far (remember, there's a _reason_ for four introductory chapters.) Also, which attorney do you think will catch the contradiction, or will they at all? Oh, Barnaby, we'll get an adventure out of this yet!

Author's note corner: (Those of you only here for the story, feel free to run away screaming.)

I have been remiss in giving the answers.

The answers to _what_ you ask? The answers to Chapter… nine's? Name that song reference quiz! Therefore, I shall reveal them now. There were eight songs, all different.

'Forget it' by Breaking Benjamin

'Dead on Arrival' by Fall Out Boy

'My Old Friend' by Tim McGraw

'Are You Gonna Be My Girl' by Jet (which, incidentally, could be the Chancellor Moore theme song. Just saying.)

'Yellow Submarine' by the Beatles

'Nothin' to Lose' by Josh Gracin

'Moment in Time' by Cherish

'Love You Out Loud' by Rascal Flatts

These were worth… 50 points each, cause some of them were pretty obvious. Partial credit is given this time.

As for the next challenge, Noble hasn't been saying much, so it's _all_ the chapters up until this point. Have to disclaim them _somehow_ right?

And now for something completely different.

Character In-Depth: Tracy Spade.

He's been here since the beginning, and he's _never_ gotten his own in-depth section! What's up with that?

Even though he's the police force contact, he doesn't have all that big a part, does he? Something I _should_ try and remedy, as he really _is_ a loveable character.

Interesting fact: Even though I've actually drawn him out, and I know exactly what he looks like, I still can't help but picture Gumshoe whenever I write about him. Kind of like how I associate Liam with Ema Skye… I don't know why, it's just weird. Anywho…

Q+A! WOOHOO! :

I've wanted to know this since the beginning! MIDDLE NAME! : He doesn't have one. Not everyone does, and Tracy is one of the people who don't. It's that simple.

Oh yeah? Well what's his favorite… : He doesn't listen to music. Between working on homicides and doing kid's birthday parties, he only has time to read the paper. He uses the radio to get news and listen to football.

Football huh? What's his team? : Same as mine, the Jets. New York _is_ the most amaxing state in the union, after all; I don't care _what_ you say.

Has football changed at all in the time of Chancellor Moore? : Not really a Spade question, but… yeah. Washington D.C. has a team now: the Cherries. They're not _bad…_ but they aren't good either.

Where did Spade learn ventriloquism? : College? I mean, where _do_ you learn that kind of thing?

How old is he? Really? : How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop? That's right: The world will never know.


	14. Part 7

Disclaimer:

**12. Please discuss the following areas; attach additional sheets if necessary**

Discuss your educational and career goals.

List and describe your achievements, honors, and awards

Describe your complete and total lack of ownership of anything Ace Attorney.

State that, since this story barely has anything to do with Ace Attorney, you do in fact, own all of it, and _will_ sue if movie rights are procured without permission. You _know_ you've thought about it. Hollywood jerk.

Pre-Fic Author conversation: Hey everybody! Have we all made our guesses? To refresh your memory, the two questions were: 1) What/where is the contradiction and 2) Which character (other than Chance) spots it, if any at all? The answers to these questions will be presented almost immediately, so without further ado…

Turnabout of the Ancient Mariner

(Trial, Part 3)

**Pardon me!**

"But…" Benvolio said, a hand behind his head in embarrassment. "I believe that… there is a contradiction in that statement somewhere…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

**"**Contradiction? _What_ contradiction?" Tanya slammed the wall behind her with all her might, and screamed:

"THERE IS NO CONTRADICTION HERE!!!!!!!!!!"

Ben smiled awkwardly. "Ms. Krasivaya… while that was a valiant attempt to shake my confidence, and probably _would_ have worked in other cases… I actually have quite more fortitude than one would first think… now granted, I am not saying that by thinking that, you are a bad judge of a person's character, or that you are narrow-minded, on the contrary I think…"

"ORDER UP!" yelled Scotty, exasperated. "If you would _get on with it_, Mr. Paraclete?" He looked pleadingly at Chancellor. Their eyes met, and Scotty seemed to say, without words: _I miss you. _Chancellor caught on to this, and his eyes said, also without words: _I'm sorry, but I have to stay away from you for now. Also, this conversation is kind of sketchy._ Scotty nodded, and his eyes said, again without words: _True enough. Just remember; I'm married._

"Ahem" Ben cleared his throat. "Yes, the contradiction. Mademoiselle Aegis, you stated that you and Mr. Culligan talked _on the deck of the ship_, yes?"

"Yup, that's right. You've always been a good listener, Ben."

Ben flushed red. "Thank you, Mademoiselle Aegis. But you see, it is that good hearing that has disturbed me…" He cleared his throat. "Because you see, you also claimed that you were able to see Mademoiselle Noble as she walked on the upper deck… well, balcony I think you called it, but anyway… that is impossible."

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Mr.… Parasol? Was it?" Tanya asked.

"Paraclete" Benvolio corrected patiently.

"Very well. _Mr. Pair of Cleats!_" Tanya said, shaking her head. "Do you mean to bring the witness' eyesight into question? I'll have you know we've done thorough background checks, and Ms. Aegis has perfect, 20/20 vision!"

"But she was not wearing sunglasses" Ben said softly.

This threw Tanya, both because of the complete randomness of the statement and because of how softly and unimposing it had been said. "Wh… what do you exactly mean by that?"

"Well you see; Monsieur Noble" Ben explained, "had recently installed a brand-new, high-powered chandelier, hanging from the balcony." He took out pictures from the party to prove this point. "The chandelier shone so brightly that, as many of the guests pointed out, trying to look at the upper deck would be impossible… you would go blind if you tried." He gave a slight bow. "Therefore I hold that it is impossible for Mademoiselle Aegis to have seen Mademoiselle Noble walking the upper deck, and that either she is lying about this fact, or she received such information from another source."

Scotty felt a tear come to his eye. "That… was the most logical thought process I've heard in _ages…_" He stifled back a sob. "Seriously, you don't know how long… ever since _he_ showed up…" He shook his head towards Chancellor. "Well… it's just…" He sobbed once, a bit overdramatically. "_You don't know how nice it is to have someone halfway normal in here!_"

Aegis shook her head, pulled a tissue out from her pocket, and handed it to Scotty. He took it gratefully, but was surprised to see her bring out an entire package and place it next to him. "Wha…" Scotty asked. "I'm not crying _that_ much…"

"But you will be" she said seriously. She flashed a huge smile. "Ben hit the nail on the head over there… I'll admit it; _I_ didn't actually see Mrs. Noble walking around on the deck…" She blushed. "My… my boyfriend did."

"_**WHAT?**__" _exclaimed Chance, Ben, Morage, Jack, and DuClaw simultaneously.

"Mademoiselle Aegis?" Ben gaped. "You have a…"

"Since when has she…" Morage grumbled.

"Go TripleA!" Chance yelled. "It's _never_ too late, after all!" SMACK! Rang the dictionary as it caved in Chancellor's head.

"I wish that _I_ had Jesse's girl!" commented Jack, delirious.

"What's the big deal?" Aegis asked, turning red as she realized how many eyes were riveted on her. "Yes, I have a boyfriend. So what? I happen to think I'm _rather_ easy to look at!" She huffed. She looked up sympathetically at Scotty. "And the reason I gave you all those tissues, Scotty dear, is because if abnormality upsets you… then having my boyfriend testify will bring you to tears instantly."

"I've got a bad, yet strangely familiar feeling about this…" Cassie commented.

-Five minutes later.

Ben's mouth stood open. When he finally regained control of his tongue, he let out a strained whisper: "he did it. Sacra Bleu, he did it! There is no doubt in my mind."

"For once, I agree, concur, correspond, and see eye to eye" Alexis nodded. "Though if we're judging solely on appearance, that DuClaw is pretty suspicious too…"

"Guys" Chance groaned, titling his chair back in utter disbelief. "It's a million times Moore likely that _I_ killed Mrs. Noble than the man sitting at the witness stand right now."

"Why, Mr.…. Moore…" Andre` Ne` Chrome warbled. "It's nice to… know… that you trust me… so." He chuckled eerily. "Mother…while she was still alive…" He chuckled again, and a young child in the audience began to wail. "She always said… that the people who… trust you… are the only one's worth… bothering with." He peered at his jagged, uncut fingernails with a look that would be classified as menacing if given by anyone but him. "As for all the others…" his voice trailed off, and a large muscular man with a 'Born to Kill' tattoo and a ripped leather jacket excused himself, as he had just wet his pants.

"Athena?" Morage whispered, leaning towards Aegis, who had recently taken a seat next to him. "If it's not too bold to ask… and I'll try to put this as nicely as possible…what the hell?"

Aegis simply smiled. "Be nice, Grumbles," she said sweetly, "he's actually a very interesting and compassionate man on the inside… even if he does, quite literally, look like death."

"You always did have a 'weird' fetish," Morage grumbled to himself.

"Which is probably why I joined this firm, right Grumbles?" Aegis smiled, ignoring the fact that the comment was meant to be insulting.

"Ahem" Tanya cleared her throat. "Well, Mr. Ne` Chrome, I must say I'm quite surprised to see you again…" She lowered her voice. "No hard feelings about last time, right?"

"But of course… not…" he said softly. His right eye bulged out slightly, as he looked closely at Tanya. "Though I must… say… I am _quite_ surprised… that you are asking such a… question…" He smiled, and sent shivers down an old woman's spine. "You seem a bit Moore… outgoing… less… reserved…Moore…friendly… less…"

"Well, all I have to say to that is that the Moore you see in life, the Moore you change" Tanya interrupted quickly. "And that as you see Moore, the other people around you begin to realize you're not as unapproachable as you seem." Her eyes flew open, as if she only just realized what she had actually said. "Or well… I mean to say that as you see Moore and Moore, you begin to see that the… _other_ people… er…" She shook her head furiously. "Testify! NOW!"

In his cozy, homely prison cell, Jaden Friday sensed a breakthrough.

"You don't have to… be so mean…" Ne` Chrome whimpered, his bottom lip trembling. "I don't… have to…_take…_" His eyes narrowed, but for him, this was a gesture of acceptance, not of threat. "Very well, I'll testify about that night…at the party… where no one… noticed… I was there…"

"My bad" Chancellor admitted. "I should have known; my past-acquaintance-senses were tingling all the time."

"Is that synonymous with 'womanly intuition'?" Alexis teased.

Chance gripped his tire chain, fully prepared to swing it, but looked down only to hear his reflection say _Don't you _DARE_ use this thing for evil, you hear me Chancy?_ "Fine…" He muttered to himself, settled back into his chair, and listened to Andre's testimony.

"I was… coming… up from the bar… getting my Athena a drink. I happened to look up… at the balcony… and that's when, I saw her… the dead woman, Mrs. Noble." He chuckled slightly. "Well, she wasn't dead _then_, but…" He peered at his nails. "You understand… … yes?"

"Completely, utterly, eerily, spookily" Alexis nodded. "Do you have anything to add?"

"Well… no!" He said with a slight chuckle. "What else… would I… have… to say?"

"It's just…" Alexis said, crossing her arms and pressing them tightly against her chest. "Your testimony is so _short, _so _brief_, so _epigrammatic_." She winked once. "Are you sure that's _all_ you have to say? Did you perhaps, go up to the balcony at any point?"

Where 85% (99.9% if it were Tanya) of men would have said something Moore, even if they had nothing to say, Ne` Chrome shook his head once, slowly and wearily.

"No… nothing at all…" He smiled, showing teeth a sickly yellow color. "Isn't that… really all that needs… to be said… anyway?"

**PRONOUNCEMENT!**

"If you have nothing else to say…" Alexis yelled, tensing up. "The how is testimony any better than Ms. Aegis'? If you never went up to the balcony, there is still no way you could have seen Ms. Aegis!"

"_In order to have seen Ms. Aegis, you would have had to gone up to the second floor!_"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"First of all, I'd like to congratulate you, Ms. Aegis" Tanya said, smiling condescendingly. "Do you realize that you have _actually_ caused me to object for the first time in this trial?" She stretched slowly, letting out a soft, shuddering sigh. "To be frank, getting me to utter those four syllables means that you're the _cream_ of the crop… about as common among lawyers as a black peppered moth was in England before the Industrial Revolution."

"Yeah, yeah, that's nice, grand, striking…" Alexis shrugged off, while the three men standing behind her whimpered softly and leaned forward. "But I'd like to know just _what_ you find objectionable about my interruption of conversation, _Ms. Krasivaya_."

"Very true, Ms. Krasivaya" Scotty agreed, secretly glad that he had a loose fitting robe on, "what exactly is wrong with Ms. Lexington's statement."

"The sheer and utter ignorance required to make it, your honor" Tanya said coolly. "While I have not been to the ship personally, many pictures were taken by the police, and I studied the blueprints quite thoroughly." She held up a finger in an almost scolding manner. "Let's review the layout of the ship, shall we?"

"Probably a good idea, yes" Scotty nodded.

"Now, the chandelier, if I'm not mistaken… and I'm not" Tanya explained, "hung from the edge of the balcony, bathing the lower deck with light. The chandelier, because of the edge it was hung on, illuminated both in front of the balcony and beside the balcony, making it impossible for either side to look at the balcony directly."

"It probably would have been helpful if _someone_ had explained that earlier…" Chance mused; staring accusingly sat no one in particular.

"However, the entrance to the bar" Tanya continued. "Opened up from beneath the ship on the side _perpendicular_ to that on which the chandelier hung! Basically" she explained, holding up a sheet of paper vertically, " if the chandelier was at this corner here," she pointed to the upper right-hand corner, on the longer side, "then the entrance to the bar was here" she pointed to the bottom of the paper. "Thus, Mr. Ne` Chrome, if he looked up, could see along the length of the balcony in it's entirety, without being so close to the light as to blind him!"

"Flawless logic" Scotty nodded. "If not somewhat confusing until the very end. The defense's objection is overruled!"

Alexis stood for a minute, and then sat down softly in a chair. "Ben?" She asked. "Could you handle this cross-examination from here on out? I need coffee, stimulant, a pick-me-up…"

"Strawberry?" offered Chancellor. "They're _loaded_ with sugar."

"Ugh…" Alexis muttered. "I _hate_ those things…" She reached for a cup of coffee she had brought earlier, and then settled down to listen to Ben's cross-examination.

"Monsieur Ne` Chrome…" Ben began. "Can I just clear one thing up for a moment?"

"Of course…" The man said, seeming somewhat Moore comfortable with his examiner.

Ben cleared his throat and continued. "You are absolutely sure that the person you saw was Mademoiselle Noble, yes?"

Ne` Chrome smiled and nodded. "I'm…. sure…"

"You hesitated!" Ben cried, somewhat relieved. "You are _not_ sure are you?"

"No… I'm… sure." Ne` Chrome flashed another sickly smile. "It's just… if you haven't noticed… well…"

"Move on, progress, change the subject!" Alexis ordered. "I'm pretty sure that's just the way he talks."

"Very well then…" Ben said, shifting his focus. "Another thing I was wondering about… the staircase from the lower level lies directly below the balcony. You would have to turn around to get a decent look, correct?"

"Yes… that's right…"

"If you were getting Mademoiselle Aegis a drink, why did you stop and turn around?" Ben smiled. "Not that I would know the state of mind of a man getting something for his loved one, mind you, I would just think that you would want to return right away, correct?"

"Ah, well, about that…" Ne` Chrome garbled. "I _did_… want to get back… as soon as possible… but…" He scratched his ear. "I heard an unusual sound… how to put it…" He thought for a minute, tapping his rough nails on the desk. "An instrument was off."

Ben gave Ne` Chrome a curious look. "An instrument was off? What do you mean by that, monsieur?"

"What I mean… is what I mean…" Ne` Chrome replied, giving Ben an equally curious look. "The band… that was playing the lovely background music on the deck…" He tapped the side of his head. "One of them… was playing… something completely…different." He nodded his head. "There was… a sudden squealing sound… a loud thump… and then…" Ne` Chrome was silent. "And then it continued to play… something different… like a lullaby… but rushed and harsh…"

"It's meaningless, hollow, futile," Alexis whispered. "Go on to something else."

Chancellor leaned back in his chair, shaking his head from side to side.

"_WHAT?"_ yelled Alexis. "_What's with the sudden look of contempt, huh?_"

"It's just…" Chance cracked his neck. "Well, I won't say anything _specifically_ but… you guys think _way_ too literally." He shook his head. "Not that's not quite the word… what I mean to say is, you guys just glaze over everything you think is trivial… what would you call that?"

"_Wisdom_" Alexis defined caustically.

"Not in my book." He laughed. Then again…" Chance stretched. "I'm not in charge here… I mean what would I know, right?" He looked over at Ben. "Think nothing of it, Benjamin."

"Benvolio" is what Ben _would_ have corrected, patiently of course, but he was lost in thought. He thought over Andre's testimony for a minute, and his eyes snapped open.

**Pardon me!**

"But…" Ben said, finger outstretched. "You said that you turned around… because an instrument was playing something different?"

"Yes…" Ne` Chrome said, shifting uncomfortably.

"Why?" Ben asked rhetorically. "Correct me if I am wrong but… the band was playing on the deck! You even said so yourself!"

_"Why would an instrument making a mistake on the _deck_ cause you to look at the _balcony?"

The audience murmured in thought.

Ne` Chrome nodded his head in the same such thought. "It is odd… I'll admit, but… that's where it sounded… like it was coming…from…"

"It could very well have been a trick of the air," Tanya explained quickly. "Besides, while _sight_ is always reliable, hearing is not such the case… _particularly_ in a crowded environment!"

Ben nodded slightly. "This is true…"

**OPPOSITION!**

"Even so!" Alexis yelled, picking up on where this was going, "what Mr. Ne` Chrome heard _still_ doesn't make sense! Why would a player in an ensemble, after making a mistake, start to play something _completely different?_"

"_MR. NE` CHROME'S EXCUSE IS A SHAM! HE'S HIDING SOMETHING!_"

"Wha…what…" Ne` Chrome's bottom lip began to tremble. "Lying… I'm not… Mommy always said…"

**RETRACTION!** Yelled Chancellor. "We're… going to take that last statement back, Scotty."

"You are?" Scotty asked.

"_WE ARE?_" Alexis yelled.

"We are… We are… on the _cruuuuuuuuuuuuise!_" sang Jack from the gallery. "WE ARE!"

"You're thinking too _wisely_ again," Chancellor explained. "Come on think, I know you can do this."

-

But can you? Do you know what the contradiction means? If not, we highly suggest looking back in earlier chapters… and since this thing is kind of long, we'll even give you some guiding questions. I'm sorry for splitting this up in so many pieces…

What kind of band was playing that night?

What does that say about that sound Andre` heard?

Why/Who/When/What does that implicate?

And just because I can… no extras for you! HA!

I apologize for the shortness of this chapter.


	15. Part 8

Disclaimer: ACE! ATTORNEY! DON'T! OWN! DO! OWN! CHANCELLOR! MOORE! STOP! SHOUTING! NOW! NO! NEVER! AAAAAARGH!

… Milton Bradley.

Author's note: Ok, yeah, there's _seemingly _a major contradiction in the last chapter… namely that Tanya congratulates Alexis for being the first to cause her to object… when Ben causes her to object twice before in the very same chapter.

A seeming contradiction, yes, but not so. The first two objections were simply to interrupt conversation/ shake Ben's nerves… they weren't actually used to present evidence. Alexis' objection (rather, the one she caused Tanya to make) was the first one that involved evidence, and _that's_ what she _should _have said, but we all know how good Tanya talks English.

Yes I meant to do that, and in no way shape or form am I making this up off the top of my head, after just realizing I made a mistake five seconds ago. Believe it!

Turnabout of the Ancient Mariner

(Trial, part 4)

**OMIGOSH! I UNDERSTAND!**

"That's…_probably_ the most professional thing I've heard in my life" Chancellor commented sarcastically.

SMACK! Rang the dictionary as it caved in Chancellor's skull.

"Ahem." Alexis cleared her throat, straightened her sleeves (which had become ruffled; darn that Chancellor), and turned to face the court. "Your honor, I believe that Mr. Ne` Chrome's testimony reveals something _huge_ about that night!" She gestured for dramatic emphasis, and to her delight, found it successful. "Namely, specifically, that is to say, it names _another witness_ that has not yet made themselves known before the court!" She shook her head slightly. "And a rather _suspicious_ one at that, seeing as they haven't come forward to testify, haven't owned up, have _hidden_ themselves from the system."

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"You'll excuse me, Miriam" Tanya quipped. "I'm not sure what edition dictionary you're using…"

"Miriam-Webster, 2007. New Lexicon edition by the looks of it, mademoiselle" Ben said, reading the imprinted words off Chancellor's skull.

"Yes… thank you, Mr. Parenthetical." Tanya rolled her eyes.

"Para_clete_" Benvolio corrected patiently.

"_Anyway!_" Tanya snapped, "back to what I was _saying_, I hardly see how an instrument going awry has _anything_ to do with a new witness, and, as I was saying earlier, I'm not sure what dictionary you're using… well, ok, I _am_ sure, but I highly doubt that 'declining testimony' is synonymous with 'hiding from the system.'" She flicked her hair back. "Even if there _is_ another witness, which I seriously doubt, there's no reason to be suspicious."

**RETALIATION!**

"Perhaps in _some_ cases you'd be right, Ms. Krasivaya" Alexis grinned, "but in this case, I assure you they _are_ synonyms." She puffed her chest out. "First, I'd like to address the question of _who the witness is._" She paused for a moment. "Actually, Ben, would you like to take that one?"

"Certainly, although understand that by taking the job, I am not saying that you yourself are incapable of…"

"Yes, ok, alright, I _understand,_ Ben." She shook her head. "I already know that I know what there is to know, you know?"

"Head… aching…" muttered Chancellor.

"Alright then, mademoiselle" Ben nodded. "First of all" he explained "I would like to call the court's attention the _type of band_ that was playing at the party that night. It was a _string ensemble._"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"I hardly see how this has _anything_ to do with the case, your honor!"

**Pardon me!**

"But… I was just getting to that, mademoiselle. Not to say you were jumping the gun, or that you were impatient or anything like that." He cleared his throat. "This means that the instrument Mr. Ne` Chrome heard playing was a _stringed instrument_. Now, let us think. If the string ensemble was playing during that time, who else on the ship could be in a different place, but still be carrying a stringed instrument with them?" He held an open palm up to the gallery. "There is only one person of such a nature, and he is seated right here in this courtroom! _Monsieur Stradivarius DuClaw!_"

The entire courtroom was silent, and stared at the mangy man sitting in the gallery.

"Oh…" he grumbled. "Damn it, I guess I have to get up now, don't I?"

The courtroom muttered quietly in shock and disbelief. Tanya sighed, and leaned back against the wall. "Honestly, what is it about attorneys that makes them _always_ accuse prosecutors of murder?"

"I know!" Cassie said, leaning over the railing to talk to Tanya. "You _think_ they could do something original like accuse doctors, or their family members or _themselves_… by that I mean other attorneys, not confessing… but the whole 'prosecutors are evil' line is really getting old, you know? I mean look at _you_, Tanya! You're not evil, or at least I'd sincerely _hope_ not, because we don't want Chancellor being 'mysteriously killed off' anytime soon…"

"Sh!" Tanya smiled, putting a finger to her lips. "You'll spoil a future plot twist!" The two of them laughed.

"Ben" Chance said, completely serious. "When I die, I want you to have my tire chain, ok?"

"I would comment on how you will probably outlive me…" Ben mused. He turned around and flashed a huge grim. "But I would not want to spoil a future plot twist, now would I?"

Chancellor fell over. On his head. And faked passing out again. "Not… you…too…" were his final words before he lapsed into faux-unconsciousness.

"ORDEEEEEEEEEER UUUUUUUP!" Scotty yelled, smacking the gavel onto the desk. "Well now, Strad, I certainly hope this isn't going where I think it's going."

"ONE!" DuClaw shrieked, holding a finger in the air. "I don't recall ever giving you permission to call me 'Strad', even if we _are_ coworkers, and two, if where I think you think this is going is where you think this is going, I think that your thinking is false."

"Head… aching…" muttered Chancellor.

"Either way" DuClaw said, taking the stand with disdain. "As much as I didn't want to be dragged into this, I suppose I've got no choice now, right?" He tapped his fingernails (the obscenely long ones) impatiently on the stand. "Fire away, low lives," he said, implying that he wanted Alexis to begin. However, when she took a breath, he pounded the desk and pointed his long nails straight at Alexis. "And if _you_ say _anything_ about attorney and low life _not_ being synonyms, I'll cut you."

"Meep, eek, expression of shock" Alexis gulped.

"I think I like this guy," Chance whispered to Culligan.

"Figures" muttered Culligan. "Your liking _him_, but _I'm_ deserving to be dropping out of a plane flying ten thousand miles above ground into the Mariana trench, wearing nothing but a pair of concrete boots."

"_And_ listening to Crazy Crazy" chimed Chancellor. "Now come on, let's listen to his testimony."

"Well alright, since you've forced me into this thing, I might as well clear some things up. _Yes_ I was on the balcony that night around 10:00, but…" He tapped his fingernails on the side of his head. "_Mrs. Noble_ wasn't."

**Pardon me!**

"But Mr. DuClaw, as you have already heard, two witnesses have testified to seeing Mrs. Noble around that time!"

"Actually, as _you_ proved, there was only _one_ witness, and he's an idiot." He shook his head, allowing his mangy hair to flow from side to side. "Besides, who's Moore reliable? Someone on the deck needing to look up and away or someone who was there?" He made a grim face. "I've always _despised_ how you attorneys can be so _trusting_, but… since you've managed to piece enough of the truth together, I _suppose_ I can help you." He leaned forward. "The person Mr. Ne` Chrome thinks was Mrs. Noble… was Zak Newton."

Silence.

More silence, and then.

Complete and utter chaos.

-District Courthouse. 7/11. 12:00 pm.

"I don't think I've ever seen a trial dismissed because of crowd uproar, disquiet, and pandemonium!" exclaimed Alexis.

"It certainly was not dismissed because of any contradiction on our part" Ben nodded glumly. "What kind of judge would actually give precedence to testimony that says an old white woman was _actually_ a young black man?"

"Scotty… he's used to it by now." Chance said, checking his watch. "And I'll bet you _anything _he just wanted to break for lunch. That's why we get an _hour and a half_ off, instead of twenty minutes." He inched towards the door. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll…"

"Where do you think _you're_ going?"

"To… investigate…"

Ben shook his head. "You really have _no_ faith in our police force, do you, Chancellor?" He smiled. "There are probably good reasons for that, but I am afraid you are needed in a 'meeting of the minds' if you will, monsieur."

"What?" asked Chancellor, confused.

"We're discussing, talking about, conversing over what to do next" Alexis said sternly. "Now _come on!_"

"Do I at least get my one phone call?"

"_FIVE MINUTES!"_ Alexis wasn't in a playful mood. She and Ben entered an adjacent room, Ben shrugging his shoulders, Alexis slamming the door behind them.

"Five minutes…" Chance muttered, whipping out his phone. "Two and a half minutes for each then…"

-S.S. Noble. 7/11. 12:18 pm.

A disheveled looking, but actually pristine Studebaker pulled up to the pier. It was painted orange, purple, and silver, partially because they did not match, and partially because there were no words that rhymed with those colors. (If it were known why this particularly mattered to the owner of the car, it would most likely be a key step in understanding the universe… or at least the mind of the author of this story.)

Out of the mismatched car stepped the self-proclaimed king of mismatch himself, everyone's favorite redheaded Latino private eye (and, most likely, the only one you know), Ricardo Writchard.

"_Prepare to be investigated!_" he yelled, as he always did before entering a crime scene. A woman walking past on the opposite side of the street stood stock still for a moment, made a face, and ran the opposite way.

Unfortunately for her, the scream has also instigated an elephant that was being transported to the Boston Zoo. It broke free of its cage and stampeded down the street, meeting her directly in a place where she would not have been had she continued walking.

Fortunately for the city of Boston, the woman had no friends, family, or any relations to speak of, so the funeral was cheap and the lawsuit that would have cropped up was conveniently swept under the table.

One must ask then, why even bring it up? Why is this of any merit to interrupt the plot of the story? It all comes down to characterization, my friend, but not of whom you might think. The story is not meant to characterize Ricardo Writchard as careless and destructive. For surely, had another individual not also been present at the harbor, the circumstances would not have lined up so perfectly.

"You know…" Came a squeaky voice from in front of the _Noble_, "I was seriously on the cleaning crew for this ship… seriously… like three days ago." The man sniffed once. "And I seriously thought… have I finally gotten through a job without something serious happening? Seriously? But then, just as I was seriously proud of myself, two days later…"

Liam Sirius tilted his head back and screamed into the sky: "_Everywhere I go! Someone dies! SERIOUSLYYYYYYYYYYYY!"_

Ricky pulled out his cell phone, looking at the text Chance has sent him.

_I srsly sndg u sum hlp. _**Srsly.**

_So that's what he meant, huh?_ Ricky said to himself. "Yo!" He called aloud. "You're the guy that Chancellor sent?"

"Well…" Liam said carefully. "If you seriously mean Chancellor as in 'seriously a Rando Masashi rip off', then seriously, he sent me."

"Rando Ma…" Ricky thought over the reference for a minute. "No… sorry, too obscure."

"Seriously? Rurouni Kenshin then?"

"As in a man with a woman's face!" Ricky said, snapping his fingers triumphantly. "Yes! That's the Chancellor I'm talking about."

"Woopedy doo. Serious congratulations to you. Seriously" Liam said sarcastically.

"You don't sound very serious" Ricky commented. "You actually sound kind of angry at the world… then again, you _are_ a teenager, so…"

"_WOULDN'T YOU SERIOUSLY BE ANGRY AT THE WORLD IF YOU WERE SERIOUSLY THE GRIM REAPER'S APPRENTICE? I MEAN, SERIOUSLY! WHY ME?"_

"And you didn't _ask_ to be born either, right?"

"Seriously not! That seriously just happened on its own!"

"Funny that" Ricky said offhandedly. "Anyway, are you here to help or complain?"

"Seriously? I'm here to complain" Liam said, completely serious. "Chancellor seriously told me it'd be seriously good practice for you having an ungrateful, seriously _annoying_ sidekick to follow you around. Seriously!"

"What… who does he think he…"

"He seriously told me that if you protested, I should seriously say 'Melissa MacDonald episode."

Ricky flinched visibly. "Yeah… never exactly paid for that one." He wrapped his arm around Liam in a friendly, yet forced way. "Come, son. I shall teach you all I know."

"Seriously? I can be a detective?"

"Heavens no!" Laughed Ricky. "I'm teaching you how to be annoying! Which means… yeah, I suppose I am teaching you how to be a detective, come to think of it." He laughed again. "At least the way _I _do it, anyhow. Now repeat after me: _prepare to be investigated!"_

"_Seriously prepare to be investigated! SERIOUSLY!" _Liam shrieked shrilly. And across the street, a man lifting a piano slipped up, accidentally sliced the rope, and sent the instrument spiraling down on top of a young man in his mid twenties.

"_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" _Zak Newton screamed like a little girl, and his incredible fear of the falling object was the only thing that gave him the speed to prolong his life. As if the trauma of the fall was not enough, his blind speed caused him to careen, uncontrollably, into a metal lamppost. On top of it all, it was only within the next minute that he was called and asked to testify, and to this day, 'having a Zak' is Boston slang for a short period of time where many things go wrong at once. (Author's note: not true. If you go to real-life Boston and use the expression 'having a Zak', people will either a) not understand you or b) take it to mean something suggestive and/or insulting, and respond accordingly. _Just_ warning you.)

-Deck of the Ship

"Now" Ricky explained, whispering. "The first rule of good investigating is to remain quiet at all times. You never know how loud noise could affect the crime scene, or if anyone is nearby who _doesn't_ want you to know the truth." He straightened his collar smugly. "Just one of the many occupational hazards I grapple with from day to day."

"_WOW! SERIOUSLY!?!?!?" _Liam squeaked, in an incredibly loud and piercing voice that actually _was_ his whisper.

"_Hold_ it _right there_!" came a deep, proud voice.

Ricky grabbed Liam and quickly pulled the two of them around a corner, narrowly avoiding being seen by one Jonathan Sherlock, Chief of Police.

Sherlock sniffed the air, licked a finger and stuck it in the wind, and then bellowed: "_Ricardo_ Writchard, you _meddlesome_ private _detective!_ You _can't_ hide from _me, _you _may_ as well _give it up!_"

Ricky put on a large smile and stepped out from behind the corner. "Mornin' Chief!" he said brightly.

"Don't _Mornin` Chief_ me, _scalawag!" _Sherlock reprimanded, fondling his handlebar moustache proudly. "You _keep_ your _nose_ out of _police_ business!"

"What's that about my nose?" Ricky said, thinking on his feet. "You're not _anti-Semitic_ now, are you?"

"What?" Sherlock said, looking around, flustered. "_Why_ on _earth_ would you _think_ such a _thing?_"

"Well I'm Jewish after all, and you made such a big deal about my _nose_. I don't know, I might have to go to the minority board on that one."

"WHOA, WHOA, WHOA!" Liam squeaked, stepping from behind the corner. "Let's get something _seriously_ straight here! You're _seriously_ a redhead, right?"

Ricky was silent for a minute, then responded: "Well… the carpet's the same color as the curtains, if that's what you mean."

Liam cringed. "Seriously… didn't need to hear that. Anyway, you're also _seriously_ Latino, right?"

"Yeah…"

"And you're also… seriously… Jewish?"

Ricky nodded.

"_CAN YOU SERIOUSLY EXPLAIN YOUR FAMILY TREE? I MEAN, SERIOUSLY, WHERE THE HECK DO YOU _COME_ FROM?_"

Ricky shrugged. "Hey. America." He turned to Sherlock. "And back to what I was saying, I happen to know a _very_ good lawyer, so I'd step off."

"_Lousy_ ingrate." Sherlock muttered. "All those _free_ detective _classes_, and _what_ does he _do? _Goes and _opens_ his own _business_ instead of _joining_ the _force._ How _cheap_ can you…"

"Minority board!"

"Leaving now." Sherlock turned and left in a huff.

Liam shook his head. "What was all that seriously about?"

"Aw, nothing." Ricky waved off, straightening his collar again, "He just doesn't want me hanging around 'cause he _knows_ I'll find something that his boys missed."

"Humility is _seriously_ not your strong point."

"Redundancy is _seriously_ yours."

"Ah, seriously touché."

-Balcony

Ricky and Liam climbed the set of stairs to the balcony of the ship, a huge fixture that ran nearly half the length of the vessel and contained no less than a dozen rooms.

"Do you think Noble will seriously need this ship since he's seriously gone coo-coo?" Liam asked greedily.

"That's _very_ tasteful" Ricky commented. "Someone's wife dies and you wonder if he'll give you his boat."

"Seriously? You were thinking it too."

"But _I_ didn't say it, because _I_ have tact, grace, and self-control." He smiled broadly, as something along the deck caught his eye. "_And_ I'm a good teacher, because you know what I'm going to do?"

"What?"

"What _what?_"

"What, seriously?"

"Better" Ricky nodded, gesturing towards a leather jacket hanging on a coat rack. "I'm going to teach you how to take fingerprints."

"Are we seriously allowed to mess with the crime scene like that? I mean seriously, what if Sherlock…"

"Leave the Chief to me, just take this dust and have at it."

"Seriously!" Liam shouted, and dove right in. Five minutes later, the air was full of dust, and the jacket was full of gray, lined splotches.

"Alright, now compare the readable prints to the file…"

"Seriously!" He said, quickly scouring the coat for fingerprints. "Let's see… we've got Kendra Noble's prints all _over_ this thing… seriously, probably hers… then we've seriously got Alexis Lexington's prints on the back, Zak Newton's prints are seriously on the lining, Morage Thenue's are on the shoulders, and Jack Noble's prints are seriously over the right… er…" He flushed bright red. "Well, it seriously seems that…well…"

"Nothing to be embarrassed about" Ricky scolded. "Husbands _are_ allowed to cop a feel on their wives, _occasionally_."

"_But they were seriously old people!"_ Liam said in a shrill whisper.

"Shut up and spray it with Luminol."

"Seriously…" Liam grumbled, but did as he was told. When no results were found, the detective and his Liberty Spiked sidekick shrugged, and walked along the balcony until the reached the scene of the crime, Jacopo Noble's room.

-Author's note corner

You thought I was dead, didn't you?

Nah, I've been busy again. Since I don't get paid for this stuff, it doesn't exactly take precedence, you know?

Anyway, time for the specials (haven't seen them in a while, huh?)

Character In-depth: NOT!

You thought I forget didn't you? No way, Jose!

IT'S! CHRISTMAS! (EVE!) Therefore, I'd like you all to especially cherish this chapter, as it's my Christmas gift to all of you!

… Not satisfied, huh? Years of getting multiple presents have numbed your appreciation, huh? Fine. Two presents. Let's give another character a little limelight, huh? A somewhat amusing short story about everybody's favorite judge, Scotland Domino.

Scotland Domino: Just-the-thing Judge.

Every morning at 6:00 am, Scotland Domino would drearily turn his alarm off and stare up at the ceiling. He didn't _actually_ have to be up until 6:30, but he needed the half hour to debate with himself whether he cared enough to get up that morning.

_There are other judges_ one side of him would argue. _You could call in sick just one day; it wouldn't hurt anything._

_Slippery slope!_ Argued the other side. _If you call in sick one day, it'll be easier to lie about other days, and you'll_ never_ go to work!_ _Besides! A judge is supposed to be _HONEST!

_I didn't exactly try to hide anything about myself when I was running for office_ the 'devil' side would shoot back. _The people elected me _knowing_ I was like this. And after all, I'm only human!_

_If you end up not going to work for long periods of time_ his 'angel' side said, grinning triumphantly and a bit smugly. _Who's going to support Lia and Georgia?_

Scotty looked over at the woman sleeping next to him. He ran a finger down her dark, ebony arm, lightly so as not to wake her. That, for years, was the only thing that kept him getting up in the morning.

Certainly, his job couldn't keep him getting up. He found it one of the most boring jobs on the face of the planet. For hours he would listen to people argue back and forth, occasionally keeping people under control, and, eventually, declaring a verdict that anyone in the audience could have reached. The only perk was that he didn't have to wear pants. Or a shirt. Or… well, we'll spare you the rest.

It was in such a bored and dreary mood that, one fateful morning at 8:30 am, he called out: "Ms. Moore? Can you top that?"

And the world turned upside down.

For some reason or another, (Scotty didn't know exactly why) he found Chancellor's trials to be interesting, intellectually stimulating, and horrifying, and the combined senses of curiosity, challenge, and need to test his 'flight or fight' system got him out of bed in a fit of near joyous excitement.

He couldn't really place the exact feeling he had whenever Chancellor was defending. There was disbelief, yes, as Chancellor was notorious for messing up, and a bit of shame mixed in there, as some of the things the young attorney said/did were either juvenile, insulting, _way_ too direct, or all three.

On the other hand, there was a sense of admiration in there, as the remarkable man (?) had never lost a case, and always seemed completely unshakable in his defense. There was also camaraderie, Chancellor had, inevitably, become quite a good friend of his.

Overseeing it all, however, was the eerie, even creepy feeling he would sometimes get that the courtroom community was a family. He would often shake such delusions out of his head quickly enough, as most trials left him with a distinct feeling of wanting to disown _everyone_, but in Chancellor's cases, he would sometimes ponder it for quite some time.

Being the judge, he would be the father figure… that was undeniable. Chancellor wouldn't be his _son_, the age difference was too small, but he could picture him as that strange nephew of his, going through what one could only call his 'experimental' stage.

Tanya then, would be his daughter. He sometimes thought over this, as claiming someone to be your daughter who… actually… isn't, is always a bit creepy. But he had guided her through seven, going on eight years in America, nearly half the world away from her true parents. He had taken pride in her accomplishments and in her growth, and he really couldn't see her fitting any other way.

This would sometimes bring the question up as to whether he was comfortable with Chancellor dating her. He was a good enough kid, true, but the fact that he was like his nephew made the whole thing seem a bit… ew. He almost found himself objecting sometimes, but would restrain himself by reminding him that it was only incest in his warped and apathetic mind.

Spade then, would be the goofy old uncle who does the same joke routine every time you see him. DuClaw, who he sometimes included, would be the creepy uncle that no one hopes show up. And Cassandra (he had no idea why he included Cassie, as she had only been in one trial) would be another niece… probably a sister of Chance, if he went in-depth with it. Sometimes, when he was extremely bored, his mind would even include Liam Sirius, who always ended up as that obscure cousin who no one really knows how, or _if_, he's related to them.

Any further thought on the subject was almost always interrupted by a grandiose mistake on Chancellor's part, or an eloquent insult on Tanya's part, and his necessary intervention to prevent the two from either killing or leaping at each other would make him forget all about it.

They were crazy, yes, but they were _his_ crazy people. And he had the sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't be the perfect judge for them if he weren't crazy too.


	16. Part 9

Disclaimer: I now choose to recite a list: Cellotape. A book of matches. Pickles. I believe you have my stapler. George Foreman. ipod. I don't own Ace Attorney. Brothers in Arms. Vacuum. Get. Remote Controlled Vehicle. Drew Carey. I own Chancellor Moore. Shinto. Scissors. Canaan. Michael L. Diablo. Answers in Genesis. Skyler is awesome. Stewie Griffin. Za Warudo. Snickers. Calculator. Cell phone. Pole vault. Shimmy. Amaxing's real name is…

Yeah. I'll spare you all any further. And now, on to the show! Remember, Chancellor Moore is kept commercial free with contributions from Viewers like YOU! And… the Arthur Vining Davis Foundation but… mostly you guys.

Turnabout of the Ancient Mariner

(Investigation, part 2)

(Yup, only part 2. Weird, huh?)

-District Courthouse. 7/11. 12:30 pm.

"Good gravy…" muttered Chancellor, holding his head. "That last half hour felt like _weeks_."

He had just emerged, battle-worn and limping from the 'Alexis, Ben, and Chancellor meeting of the minds', which, when boiled down to its most basic (and most complete) form, consisted of Alexis yelling and giving directions, Ben nodding and saying "Yes, Mademoiselle", "No, Mademoiselle" and Chancellor getting hit over the head with a dictionary.

"_You're not supposed to be interfering!_" she had yelled, bringing the terrible tome to his top, "_This is _my_ trial! I can do it myself!_"

_She's kind of cute when she's in denial_ he thought to himself, _but, as Tony the Tiger so aptly put it, I wouldn't touch her with a forty-nine and a half foot pole._

Lost in thought, he rounded a corner and bumped into a rather angry looking woman.

"You." Tanya said, arms crossed (luckily, otherwise the positioning of Chancellor's face would make things quite awkward indeed). "We need to talk. _Now._" She pointed to an empty room, and dragged Chancellor inside.

_Not again…_ Chancellor thought to himself, as he heard Jack Noble sing faintly in the background: "_She knows how to puuuuuuuuuull my chaaaaaaaaaaaain!_"

He shifted his full attention to the woman standing in front him who, as he hadn't noticed before, was biting her bottom lip, which was quivering.

"Oh no…" Chancellor gasped, grasping Tanya's shoulder softly. "I know I haven't been _completely_ silent, but…"

"I know you're trying… really, but…" she shook her head furiously. "Even the little hints to the others, even the side comments…"

"But you _love_ the side comments!" Chance exclaimed. "You said yourself the other day that my 'mastery of sarcasm and references of the obscure variety was one of my only redeeming traits!'" He scratched his chin. "At least, I _think_ that was a compliment. I never know with you…"

"No it was… and you're right." She nodded feebly. "But… every time you open your mouth, it's just…"

"Stiletto to the throat?"

"Yeah." She uttered weakly, burying her head in his chest. "Slava bogu, it must be _horrible _to have a girlfriend who wants you dead half of the time you're together."

He kissed her head softly. "Don't worry about it. In America, that's perfectly normal."

She chuckled softly, and Chancellor sighed. _So. Complete silence is necessary, huh?_

_You'd better find some duck tape, Chancy_ his reflection chided him.

Chancellor groaned. _My partner… my girlfriend… my face… the number of women who nag me have _tripled_ in the last two months! Good Gravy, why me?_

"CHANCELLOR!" came Cassie's voice from the hallway. "Where _are_ you?"

_Ok. Quadrupled. My bad._

S.S. Noble: 7/11. 12:30 pm.

"So… this is seriously where one of my victims died…"

Liam looked around the room, carefully observing everything in it. "It's… seriously never felt so real before… seriously, this is…" His head fell to his chest. "This is serious…"

"Moping _isn't_ going to bring anyone back from the dead" Ricky asserted. "If you _seriously_ feel that you have to redeem yourself, wipe your glasses off and help me."

Liam nodded. "Seriously" he said, and wiped his glasses on Ricky's sleeve.

"Oh c'mon!" Ricky said, reeling back. "I know it _looks_ dirty, but these clothes are in pristine condition!"

"Whatever… seriously…" Liam said dismissively. "So, 'oh seriously great detective Writchard', what are we looking for, seriously?"

"Anything information that the police have either withheld or overlooked… for instance." He gestured grandly towards the safe. "Here we have a safe clearly broken into… but we've yet to be told whether there are any fingerprints on it or not!"

"Wouldn't someone breaking into a safe… _seriously_ be wearing gloves?" Liam balked.

"That's exactly the kind of narrow-minded thinking that us protagonists are supposed to _lack_!" Ricky scolded. "Worst. Apprentice. Ever."

"Sorry! Seriously!" Liam whined, quickly covering the safe in fingerprint powder. "Alright, seriously alright…" he muttered to himself, referring to the files. "Here we have… well, Jacopo and Kendra Noble, seriously… Morage Thenue… Athena Aegis… Zak Newton… and…" He cocked his head. "Seriously? Culligan's prints are on here!"

"Ha!" Ricky yelled triumphantly. "See? The fact that his prints are actually _on_ the safe is suspicious, no?"

"Seriously? Maybe he just forgot to wear gloves." Liam said skeptically.

Ricky sighed, laying his face in his hand. "Now you see, you're thinking like a prosecutor…"

"Seriously, isn't that a good thing? In order to seriously defeat your enemy, you seriously have to know what they're thinking. Seriously!"

"Whatever…" Ricky said, snapping a latex glove on and opening the safe. "Let's see what we have in…" he stopped mid-sentence, the Old Spice Swagger in his voice completely gone. "Jesus Christ…"

"Is that seriously a swear word for you?" Liam asked, head cocked. "If you seriously _are_ Jewish, I mean."

"Later, Liam." Ricky said seriously. "We've stumbled on something big here."

"Seriously? Let me see, let me…" The excitement in his voice faded away. "Jesus Christ…"

There was no money in the safe. There was no jewelry, no illegal drugs, no firearms, nothing one would expect. The only thing contained in the safe was hundreds upon hundreds of files, all marked with names.

"Aegis… Anderson… Auburn…" Ricky read.

"Sherman… Shirley…" Liam gulped. "Sirius? Seriously?"

"It's all dirt," Ricky said. "Every single file in here has information that could be used to blackmail someone." He rustled through the files. "Jesus! Even _I'm_ in here!" He opened his file. "Jesus Louise's… it's that story on the Melissa MacDonald incident…"

"And seriously, how the _heck _did Kendra Noble find out that I seriously accidentally killed a puppy? That was seriously _years_ ago, I was only like seven!"

Ricky's head turned slowly. "You're a puppy killer?" He asked, considering disowning the man next to him.

"My Rube-Goldberg machine seriously backfired, and instead of pouring a glass of milk, it seriously _launched_ a domino with the speed of a bullet." He shook his head. "It seriously haunts me to this day…"

Ricky shook his head, and turned back to the safe. "This is… huge. What on earth was that woman _after?_" He rustled through the files. "Everyone involved in this case is in here! Morage Thenue, Jonathan Sherlock, Chancellor…."

"Benjamin Paraclete, Alexis Lexington, Zak Newton…" Liam paused. "Ricky? There's… seriously nothing in this file."

"_What?_" he said, nearly falling over.

"Seriously! There's nothing in this file, or this one marked 'Sara Newton' either!"

They stood there silent for a minute. Then Ricky slowly pulled out his cell phone, and began to text.

-District Courthouse. 12:40 pm.

"Yo! Cocoa Bear!" Chance called. "Glad to see you!"

"Hey Chance!" Zak called back, grasping the lawyer's hand fiercely. "Short time, no see! … And I've already asked. Don't call me Cocoa Bear." He straightened the badge on his uniform. "Any idea why they've called me here today? I thought Detective Spade was giving the lo-down on the case."

"He did, and he managed to remember I was a man this time too." Chance nodded. "No you see… well, it sounds a bit silly but…" He cleared his throat. "DuClaw was called as a witness, and _he_ says that everyone has been mistaking _you_ for Kendra Noble." He laughed. "As glaring a contradiction as that may seem, it was enough to get court adjourned for an hour and a half, and they figured it'd be best to bring you in to clear things up." He shook his head. "Any idea what he might be talking about?"

Zak laughed loudly. "Well now, if I did, I certainly wouldn't tell you, would I?" He slapped Chance on the back. "I've never quite trusted old DuClaw myself, I wouldn't be surprised if… well, officially I'm supposed to say that Culligan did it." He put a finger to the side of his nose. "No Moore from me."

Chancellor laughed, and was about to joke back when his phone vibrated. He help up a finger, reached into his pocket, and flipped it open. He blinked once, and concentrated on keeping his face as normal as possible. "Zak…?" He asked casually. "Do you know someone named Sara? Spelled without an h?"

Silence.

"Zak?" Chance looked up, only to see a blurred shape strike him in the chest, sending him flying backwards into another person, and then running down the hall. Chance gasped for breath, the combined force and surprise knocking the wind completely out of him. Thinking quickly, he gulped in a huge breath of air and shouted at the top of his lungs: "BABY GRAND!"

"WHERE?" yelled Zak, crumpling against the wall quickly and curling up in a ball. Chance quickly sprinted forward and slid his arms around Zak's, wrapping the detective in a full nelson.

But Newton was not to be held so easily. He trashed violently, regained his balance, and backed, full force, into the wall. Chancellor, jarred by the immense impact, loosened his grip enough for Zak to break free, but Zak also fell to the ground, grasping his back. Backing into a large tire chain leaves _quite_ a few bruises. The detective slinked forward across the floor, moving as rapidly as he could towards the door.

"Not today, buddy" Ben said calmly, planting a foot firmly on the detectives back. Zak gasped suddenly, and stopped moving.

Chance groaned, and righted himself. He walked over to Newton, who was now out cold. "Damn, Ben" he grunted. "What the hell did you _do_ to him?"

"Pressure point" Ben said simply. "He'll be conscious again in about two and a half minutes, so you'd better search him quickly."

Chance nodded, and bent over, examining the body. After about a minute, he stood up, shaking his head. "No good. Whatever was in that file, he's probably destroyed it by now."

"Don't give up _that_ easily, Moore" Ben said in an almost scolding tone. "It's been mere hours since the incident. I think that he's _probably_ only had enough time to stash it at his house." He sighed, and looked up at the ceiling, almost sardonically. "If _only_ we had a search warrant. Then…"

Chance sighed, and clapped Ben on the back lightly. "Ben, my dear friend, it's time that I taught you one of my secret lawyer techniques. Techniques that my father taught me only when I was truly ready."

Ben's eyes narrowed. "Your father's a surgeon…"

"Yes, well, he still knows quite a bit about…well, everything." Chance smiled, and whipped out his phone. "And if my father taught me anything, it's this: "Sometimes, to find the whole truth, you have to use… _unorthodox_ methods." He entered a text message, and pressed SEND.

Ben smirked. "You of all people, huh?" He mumbled. "Never would've guessed."

-Zak Newton's house. 1:00 pm.

"Are we _seriously_ doing this?" Liam said in a hushed whisper, looking around frantically.

"_We're_ not doing anything," Ricky reminded him, looking around as well. "If you recall, Chancellor said that if we waited here, sooner or later…"

There was a click, and the door swung open from the inside.

"Hello, boys!" Thompson Moore said cheerily. "Fancy meeting you here! Would you like to come inside?"

Liam's mouth dropped open, while Ricky simply shook his head in awe. "Mr. Moore, you _really_ need to teach me how to do that sometime," he said, walking casually into the small apartment. "A locked apartment on the fifth story of a single's complex..."

"Seriously! How did you _do_ that?" Liam said, mouth still gaping.

Thompson chuckled. "Well, let's just say that surgery isn't the _only_ thing that requires nimble fingers." He stared wistfully at the ceiling. "Oh yes… in another life… I'd have been told to kill you both to reduce the number of shares."

"_SERIOUSLY?!??!?!??!"_

Thompson laughed. "No, of course not. Now come on then." He stretched. "Find whatever it is you're looking for."

The apartment was small, with few lights. It had the distinct feeling of being recently disorganized. Books were on shelves, dishes were on their racks… but there was a single recent spill on the carpet from a knocked over juice glass, and a set of clothes simply thrown on the floor.

"Alright then!" Ricky said with a rally cry. "_Prepare to be investigated!_ Using my _super_ sleuthing skills, I will deduce the location of the documents with nothing but my senses and my exceedingly sharp wit!"

"It's seriously lying right there on the table" Liam sighed.

"I…" Ricky faltered. "Was… _about_ to deduce that…" He bounced back. "But I suppose I've taught you well, haven't I?"

Liam rolled his eyes and grabbed the files. "Anything else while we're seriously still here?"

"Ooh! Me! Pick me!" Thompson said, his hand raised.

"Seriously… just say it…" Liam groaned.

"I went back to the hospital during the break" Thompson said, reaching into the folds of his white jacket. "I picked up the patient file on Kendra Noble… thought it could be useful."

"Doesn't that break patient confidentiality?" Ricky asked.

Thompson shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned… she's dead. She doesn't have anything to be embarrassed about." He shrugged again, and strolled out the door. "Later!" he called from the hall.

Ricky and Liam stared at their respective files for a minute, then looked at each other. "We're in the middle of someone else's apartment…" Ricky began

"…and the door is seriously wide open" Liam finished.

Two short seconds later, they were gone.

Kendra Noble; Medical Report: Blood Type: O. Weight: 120. General Notes: Allergic to Penicillin. Blood clots at abnormally low rate. Pacemaker present to control erratic heart rate. Fears anesthesia, will only be operated on under hypnosis.

Sara Newton (page 1): Order of discharge from Boston Police Department. Officer Name: Sara Newton. Date: 7/10, 1997.

Sara Newton (page 2): News Story Headline: "Barrister" Aetius Convicted, Forger Makes Deal.

Sara Newton (page 3): Letter: As long as he doesn't know. I don't care how much, as long as he never finds out.

Zak Newton (page 1): Birth Certificate: Zak Newton born to Sara and Jacob Newton, 2/27, 1992.

Zak Newton (page 2): Tabloid Article (never published): New Police Protégé' from Shamed Family?

Zak Newton (page 3): Letter: Who are you? What do you want? What are you _talking _about?

-District Courthouse. 1:10 pm.

"Chancellor! _Chancellor!_"

Chance groaned and sat up slowly. _Wait a minute…_ was the first thing he thought. _Why was I lying down in the first place?_

Cassie breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness! You're ok!"

"Yeah…" Chance said, swinging his legs over the bench and preparing to stand. _Again... what am I doing on a bench?_ "Why wouldn't I…"

And then the pain pulsated through his head.

"Agh!" He yelled, grasping the back of his skull. "Good gravy… what the hell _is_ that?"

"Well, I am not a doctor, monsieur" Ben said grimly. "But it looks like getting rammed into a wall, in combination with all those hits from Mademoiselle Lexington, brought on a minor concussion." He inspected the back of Chancellor's head carefully. "It is actually a surprise that you have gotten up so soon…"

"That's just like Moore" Morage said gruffly, looking down at Chancellor distastefully. "Never wakes up when you need him, always wakes up when you don't."

"That could be a _seriously_ awesome advertising slogan!" came Liam's voice, as he and Ricky entered the defendant's lounge.

"Yeah… but what would it advertise?" Ricky asked skeptically.

"Um…" Liam thought. "Seriously… 'Never up when you need it, seriously always up when you don't…"

"If you say anything involving the word 'dysfunction' I'll _end_ you" threatened Cassie.

Liam laughed nervously. "Seriously always the warrior woman, huh Cassie? And you were _seriously_ sweet at the…"

"_END! YOU!_"

Liam shrank back. "When she uses as seriously little words as possible," he whispered to Ricky. "It means she's _seriously_ mad."

"You ain't seen _nothing_ yet," whispered Ricky back. "At least Cassie doesn't carry a dictionary around."

"How would you know about the dictionary, Mr…?" Ben whispered.

"Ricky" the detective said, shaking Ben's hand firmly. "And you know how some twins can sense what the other is thinking at times? Chance and I have _pretty_ much got that down pat."

"STOP! CONSPIRING!" Cassie yelled. "Seriously! Do you think it's _polite_ to whisper directly _in front_ of people? Well it _isn't!_ There's always the nagging doubt in your head that they're talking about you behind your back, yet don't care what you think _so much_ that they do it _**right in front of you!**_ Do you know how _degrading_ that feels? How _humiliating? _How _oxymoronic_ that someone can talk behind your back _in front of you?_ Don't parents teach _any _sort of manners these days? _AND SINCE WHEN HAVE I USED SO MANY RHETORICAL QUESTIONS IN ONE RANT?!??!?!?_" She stomped her foot on the ground. "You people should be ashamed of yourself," she said in a softer voice.

Ben, Ricky, and Liam sat in the corner of the room, shivering in fear. Chancellor thought for a minute, pulled out a piece of paper, wrote on it, and flipped it around, revealing a '7'. "Not as good as some have been" he added, "but certainly better than average, and quite stinging. It could have been better had it been longer, and included at least one obscure reference from the early 1990's."  
"Yeah" Cassie nodded. "I just wasn't feeling that one."

"Anyway…" Ricky said, daring to move out of the corner. "Liam and I investigated the crime scene, and we seriously collected…" He slapped himself across the face. "_We_ _collected_ every scrap of evidence there was to find." He smiled broadly, grabbing his shirt lapels. "But then again, did you expect any less?"

"_He_ helped?" Cassie said, looking at Liam warily. "So who died?"

"Seriously! Not! Cool!" Said Liam, swiping a hand through his Liberty Spikes in anger. "And for your _information_ Ms. Cassandra, _my _quota has seriously already been filled for this week. The case we're trying right now is seriously testimony enough to that."

"So it _was_ you! I _knew_ it!" Cassandra yelled, pointing a finger accusingly. "We should be putting _you_ in jail for this!"

"It's _seriously_ cute the way you two are flirting right now," Morage said caustically. "But could we possibly get on with things? There's only fifteen minutes until court reassembles, and even _without_ a head injury, that's hardly enough for Moore."

"For Moore what?" Chancellor asked blearily, gripping his head in one hand. "Oh wait… never mind…" He turned to Ricky slowly. "That evidence? Can I see it?"

"Hm? Oh, sure. LIAM!" He yelled, placing a hand out dramatically.

Liam shook his head, walked past Ricky, and handed Chancellor the files.

"Thanks man" Chance said, clapping Liam on the back. "Let's see…" he mumbled, shifting through the files. "Kendra Noble is afraid of anesthesia, the safe as _your_ fingerprints on it, Mr. Thenue… the safe was missing files on Zak and Sara Newton…"

"Sara… Sara Newton?" Morage asked softly.

"That's what it says…"

Morage was silent for a minute. "I… I never thought that name would come up again…"

Chancellor's head snapped up from the files; not exactly the _smartest_ thing to do, seeing as he still had a concussion, and was rewarded with a sharp paint through the back of his head and down his neck. Instead of milking it, however, he remained focused on the task at hand. "What do you mean _again?_"

"Is there actually a _back story_ to everything that's been happening so far?" asked Cassie excitedly.

Morage looked away quickly. "It's not really your business, but…"

"Sara spelled without an h was getting bored!"

"Mr. Noble!" Chance said, exasperated. "Could you _please…_"

"No. As always, he's right again. At least, according to official reports."

The room was silent. All looked at Mr. Thenue, except for Ricky, who had taken it upon himself to be the "caring, understanding, and insanely sensitive young man that helped a legal giant out of his depression." Morage sighed, realized that resistance was futile, and began.

"It was… Good God, has it been twenty years already? I was a young, hotshot attorney…"

_Mr. Thenue? Young? That's hard to imagine…_

"Not appreciated" Morage grumbled, and Chancellor gasped at the notion that his boss could read his thoughts. "Anyway, I have gone for about… five or six years in criminal court. Of course, after that long, my record wasn't _perfect_ but… well, to give you an idea of how good I was, the newspapers would often call me "Boston's Mason".

"Mason? Seriously?" Liam asked. "Why? Some seriously complex reference to how your cases were 'seriously like solid, unmovable buildings, whose foundations were laid by a seriously gifted master mason?"

"_As in Perry Mason! The lawyer who never lost a case!_" Cassie said incredulously. "Honestly, Liam, you can't expect to be a main character if you don't get _blatantly obvious_ fifties pop culture references."

"I live for the present! I mean, seriously!"

"_ANYWAY_" Morage growled, making it abundantly clear he did not wish to be interrupted again. "I was on this streak, living the good life, when…" his voice caught in his throat.

"You convicted your own colleague, right?"

Morage's eyes widened. "Good God, Moore, how did you…"

"I put two and two together" Chance explained. "Triple A was talking about a 'Barry' and how he used to work here, and then when I saw this headline…" He pulled out the newspaper clipping that said: "Barrister" Aetius convicted. "Well… Barry is a pretty decent nickname for 'Barrister', you know?"

Morage shook his head. "I underestimate you sometimes, Moore," he said softly, with only an undecipherable hint of pride. "And yes, well… that's the way it turned out." He cleared his throat.

"It was one of the most important trials of my life. You're to young to remember, of course, but about twenty years ago, the city of Boston was overrun by a terrorist group… the Carrites."

"That's a stupid name" Cassie commented under her breath.

"Seriously? I thought it was a seriously awesome reference to 'John Dickson Carr', the _inventor_ of the 'Locked Door Mystery.'"

Cassie gasped. "Liam! You're right! How did you…"

Liam just smiled and winked.

"Anyway… yes. Aetius Barrister…" Morage grunted softly. "He was Moore than just a colleague, he was my employer, and my friend." He hung his head. "When, through my usually peerless logic, I arrived at the conclusion that Mr. Barrister was the _head_ of the Carrites… the trial was concerning whether or not my client was head of that organization or not… I denied it. No matter what happened, I wouldn't believe it."

"That is terrible Mr. Thenue…" Ben comforted. "But how does Mademoiselle Sara Newton factor in to all this?"

"Sara Newton… she was a detective for the Boston Police Department. When I arrived at that terrible conclusion, I looked for contradictions in my own logic… then she…" His voice caught again. "She came forward, saying she had evidence that pointed everything to someone else." He sighed. "And then just when it seemed that the world was a fair and just place, the news came out that it was forged. Just like that. In duty to my client, I pressed my case against Barrister, won the trial…" He hung his head. "And that's the sob story for today."

Ben's lip quivered. Cassie leaned, ever so slightly, against Liam, who stood there in a daze. Chance nodded his head, figuring. "Well, I suppose that all makes sense now."

"It does?" Cassie asked.

"Seriously?"

"What makes sense?" Morage asked, flabbergasted.

"Well… I can't say anything _for sure_ yet, but…" Chance nodded his head solemnly. "I think that, at the very least, it's safe to say that Culligan is innocent. That much I'll say. As for the rest…" He shrugged. "Well, I've been told by my concussion-causing colleague to stay out of this." He smiled. "I'm not worried though," he said, clapping a hand on Ben's back. "I'm sure _you'll_ find the truth Ben. Just think: _junior partner slot_, huh?"

"A horrible thing to think, considering the situation, but…" Ben nodded. "I suppose it is safe to say the lawyer who does best on this trial will be granted the position, no?" He looked at Chancellor, concerned. "Are you sure you are ok with staying out of this? With everything you have done so far, I would think you would be a given…"

"I'm… actually choosing to be selfish on this one, Ben." Chance smiled. "Believe me. It's _much_ better for me if I stay out of this one."

"Chancellor…" Ricky said, throwing an arm around him. "You're finally thinking like a man. I'm proud of you."

Cassie shook her head, a bit disappointed. "Maybe Freud _was_ right after all…"

End of Chapter.

Author's note corner: RETURNS!

Alright! A longer chapter, _and_ an author's corner! Things are finally returning to normal!

First of all, those of you who read stories other than this one, yes, I _am_ recycling characters. You probably realized that with Tracy Spade all the way in chapter one, and now that you see Aetius Barrister… but don't worry. Despite having the same name, his fate is different. (He still has green hair though. Figure I'd mention that.)

Character In-depth: Ricardo Writchard

The last character from chapter 1 who hasn't gotten an in-depth (I think).

And before you say anything, _yes_ I know there are red-headed Hispanics, _yes_ I know there are Hispanic Jews and _yes_ I know there are Jewish Red-heads! (One of my best friends is a Jewish "Gingerbread man" as I like to call him.) But have you _ever_ met someone who's all three at once? If so, please a) review and tell me so and b) call them Ricky. Yes, even if they're a girl. Anyway, on to the questions!

Well? What's the pun/allusion/clever reference in his name? : I explained this in chapter 1, _if_ you had a decent memory. However, I'll be nice and explain again. Chancellor Thomas More (who, if you forgot, serves as the name inspiration for the Moores) was the best lawyer ever during the time of King Henry the Eighth. He lived across the water from the courthouse, and a man named Ritchie Rich rowed him there every day.  
Ricardo Writchard is an embellishment of that. Just like Ritchie Rich, he helps Chancellor out on an every day basis.

What exactly happened during the so-called _Melissa MacDonald Incident?_ : All in good time, my friend. What I will tell you is that nobody died, though someone did come close.

Where does that self-confidence _come_ from? : If you hung around with Chancellor all day, wouldn't the overwhelming gap between your normalcy and his make _you_ feel awesome about your life?

Um… hi. I haven't been around for a while, but… : It's all right. I actually kind of missed you. Two questions, right?

First off, you would _think_ Ricky's middle name deals with his being mismatched, right? Well good sir… you're wrong. Since Ricky is the token redhead, token Hispanic character, and token Jewish guy, his middle name is… TOKEN! Because I can.

His favorite song reflects his enormous ego: "I'm too sexy for my shirt."

Learn Russian! ALSO RETURNS!

After a long hiatus, I shall continue my teachings! WOOHOO!

ТОЖЕ И ТАКШЕ: These are both words for 'Also'. ТОЖЕ (pronounced 'taw zjeh') is used when referring to other people, such as: "He likes Chancellor Moore, and I _also_ like Chancellor Moore." ТАКШЕ (pronounced 'tak sheh') refers only to one's self, such as: "I like Chancellor Moore, and I _also_ like Gorgon Zolo." И is simply the word for "and". It's pronounced "ee."

УБИТЬ (pronounced 'oo beets'): Infinitive for 'to kill'. That happens a _lot_ in this story so… kind of figured it's worth mentioning.

СЛАВА БОГУ (pronounced 'Slava bogu') (Tanya said it earlier in this chapter.) It means 'My God'. Basically, it's the Russian equivalent of 'Jesus Christ', 'Good Gravy', or something to that effect.

Have fun at the trial everyone!

Max English OUT!


	17. Part 10

Disclaimer: I WANT SOMEONE ELSE. TO GIVE TO ME THIS! LEGAL ACE ATTORNEY RIIIIIIGHTS! BABY! BUT BABY! I'M NOT SOMEONE ELSE! NOT CLAIMING I OWN THIIIIIIS! DON'T SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUE!

(This is _supposed_ to be a reference to 'Semi-Charmed Life' by Third Eye Blind, for those of you who weren't around in the nineties. Young whippersnappers!)

And as always, Chancellor Moore _is all mine!; _Albeit anything Ace Attorney at all. (Aren't assonances awesome? _Always!_) Anyway…

Turnabout of the Ancient Mariner

(Trial, part 5)

_OH C'MON! I THOUGHT WE WERE DONE WITH THIS!!!!_

As Jaden Friday stared across the detention center at his latest 'client' he silently cursed a) the person in front of him b) his rotten luck for being sent to jail, and c) Chancellor Moore _Death! Death!_ He also considered letting his face show the emotion he had inside, but decided against it. _If I ever get out of here… I'll need that…_ "What can I do for you, Mr.…."?

"Spade" said the same-named detective. "Tracy Spade."

"That's right" Friday nodded. "I remember you from the trial, halfbeard." He leaned back in his chair and attempted to put his feet up, but the chair was bolted down too far away. He silently cursed a) his short stature b) the prison builders, for being so inconsiderate and c) Chancellor Moore _Death! Death!_ He sighed, and asked resignedly: "So let me guess, you're worried about Chancellor, right?" _Death! Death!_

"Um… no" Spade said flatly. "What gave you that idea?"

"Oh, nothing… just a hunch." He dismissed, actually a bit disappointed. "So, you're problem is…" He motioned for Spade to talk.

Spade sighed. "There's a new detective on the force, Zak Newton, right?"

"I wouldn't know." He shrugged sarcastically. "I'm not exactly in touch with the outside world, halfbeard." Friday _hated_ people who ended factual sentences with 'right?'

"What?" Spade said, confused.

"Nothing. Just go on."

"Ok…" Spade shifted uncomfortably. "Well, you see, he's brilliant. Really, truly brilliant, and as hard-working as anyone…"

"Sounds perfectly healthy and productive to me…"

"Well, yeah… except he works… _too_ hard."

Friday gave him a questioning look. Spade continued. "You see, he studies constantly, works out almost, if not _as_ much." He scratched his ear. "It's such an _extreme_ work ethic, it's… I don't know… like he's trying to prove something…or…"

"Right. Because _normal_ people don't feel the need to validate themselves, and are therefore inherently lazy. Is that where your concern stems from, halfbeard?"

"What? No!" Spade said, looking shocked. "You'd have to see it for yourself… it's… it's kind of scary, how intense he gets sometimes, and…"

Friday sighed. "Alright then. _Try_ to describe, in _excruciating_ detail… believe me, I've got the time… how _scary_ this work ethic is…"

Patient Log: Have your pets Spade and Newton

_Bad joke, I know. After a _painfully_ long session, I have determined that Mr. Spade's (oy vey) concern stems from an apparent… what's the word… 'Lack of life' of his coworker, Zak Newton. Newton, apparently, dedicates his entire life to his job, and has no acquaintances outside of his field of work. Concern also stems from said Newton's 'covering up' of said intensity when _required_ to socialize with anyone._

It would most likely be prudent if Mr. Newton could be brought in for a session. Then again, if things go they way I hear they're going, that might not be too hard…

-District Courthouse. 7/11. 1:25 pm.

"Zak did _what? WHAAAAAAT?_"

Alexis Lexicon Lexington was off put, flabbergasted, bowled over, and Moore than a bit confused. Ben, Chance, and Cassandra had caught up to her five minutes before the trial was set to reconvene, and had told her everything.

"Unorthodox style, for sure, mademoiselle" Ben complimented "but you have to admit that Chancellor's way of doing things _does_ bring results! Not saying that your way or my way do not get _equally_ good results, mind you, but…"

"Impossible! Inconceivable! FALSE! FAIL!" Alexis yelled. "I appreciate all the work you guys have done, but you haven't found out _anything!_" She puffed her chest out, sure of herself. "Zak Newton, even if he _did_ steal a file or two from Mrs. Noble after she died, and even if he _did_ just try to make a run for it, _did not kill Kenny!_ It goes against all of my evidence, data, and facts!"

"Wait… what have _you_ done for the past hour then?" Chance asked.

"_I_ have been strengthening our case against DuClaw…"

Ben sighed, and sunk his head low. "Mademoiselle, you are a gifted attorney, and I do not doubt your skills at all, but I think you _must_ admit that you are wrong here, no?"

"_NO!_" Alexis yelled. _"I know I'm correct! I'm sure I'm right! I'm certain I'm accurate!_"

"But… you're not" Cassie said bluntly. "Why not just admit it?"

"You're not even an attorney" Alexis shot coldly. "You're just a little girl who _wishes_ she could be useful!"

"I'm pretty sure that's _you_ actually," Cassie snapped back. "Granted, I haven't done much during this trial, mostly because of your own protests at my involvement, but _you_, as you've said quite a few times, are an _actual attorney_. But have you contributed _anything_ so far? You haven't collected any evidence, you really haven't had _any_ decent contradictions…" She shrugged her shoulders, and threw her hands up in a 'what can you do?' kind of pose. "Let's face it, you're about as helpless as the title character in _Oliver!_ when he gets kidnapped, and as useless as _anyone else_ in the band Muse other than Matthew Bellamy!"

"Better" Chance nodded. "That's about… a nine I think, for the references added in. Thought I'm not sure everyone would agree that Matthew Bellamy _is_ the band Muse."

"_Your assistant just verbally abused me and very well may have mentally scarred me for life, and the only thing you're concerned about is whether or not her _RANT_ was any good?_"

Chance pointed to the back of his head. "Minor concussion. You'll forgive me, but I'm finding it hard to side with you right now."

"About that…" Alexis said, slamming the dictionary into Chance's head again. When he crumpled to the ground, she did nothing but glare at Ben, as if daring him to object. At the same time, Cassie stared at him menacingly, as if expecting him to protest.

Ben smiled nervously, gauged the two women's strength carefully and, for the first time in several years, feared for his life.

-Courtroom. 7/11. 1:30 pm.

BANG!

"Court is now reconvened!" Judge Scotty yelled, gripping a McDonalds bag in one hand. "You'll forgive my eating, but traffic was _murder_ and…"

"Monsieur Scotty? Is such a comment really appropriate at this time?" Ben asked innocently. "I would think that, to some people, it could be quite offensive…"

"I suppose…" Scotty mused waving around a French fry. "But… and you'll find this affects a _lot_ of my decisions… I could _honestly_ care less, y'know?" He addressed the court. "If _anyone_ found that comment offensive, I'm fully willing to let you take it up with… the ACLU… or… PETA or… some other group that'll listen to practically anyone's complaints…"

Ben cringed. "Again… that is a bit offensive to activists, Monsieur…"

"Am **I** on trial here?" Scotty asked. "No. I'm not. Last _I_ checked, it was Gilligan P. Culligan on trial, and you were about to try and press a case on prosecutor DuClaw, so can we _get_ to that?"

"AH! Yes! Certainly! Of Course!" Alexis yelled triumphantly. "If Stradivarius DuClaw could…"

"Already here" the prosecutor rasped from the witness stand.

"Oh... good then!" Alexis said, trying not to sound as surprised as she was. "Then I suppose I'll start with the obvious…" She cleared her throat. "Ahem…"

**DOUBT IN THE VAILIDITY OF YOUR STATEMENT!**

"I _would_ have objected, had the crowd not gotten so rowdy, that the defense finds it nearly _impossible_ for any sane and sight-endowed witness to mistake a young African-American man with an old Caucasian woman!"

_"The two are, really, complete opposites! What on earth could they possibly have in common that could cause one to be mistaken for the other?_"

"Clothing," Tanya said offhandedly.

"Ah… wait, what?" Alexis scratched her head. "I'm pretty sure Zak _wasn't_ wearing a red sequin dress…"

"But" Tanya said with a slight smile. "As the evidence that one _Ricardo Writchard_ so aptly points out, he _was_ wearing a certain leather jacket, was he not?"

"Ah…' Alexis frowned. "Ben… what is she…"

"Ah, pardon Mademoiselle, you would not know" Ben apologized. "The private detective that investigated the scene took fingerprints from Mrs. Noble's jacket, and found Mr. Newton's prints on the lining." He nodded once. "One could almost picture him now, strutting along the deck, holding the insides of it..."

"And…" Tanya continued. "Since Mrs. Noble made a _special point_ of showing everyone at the party the jacket, anyone seeing the jacket would automatically associate it with Mrs. Noble, yes?"

"Ah…" Alexis frowned. "But wait… if we accept that… then my suspect gets cleared so… _easily_… or at least it means he was telling the truth…"

"What motivation would I have to lie, again?" Stradivarius asked harshly.

"Well… I thought you might have done it… plus you're a prosecutor, so… I mean…"

Scotty shook his head and opened up his Big Mac wrapper. "Ms. Lexington? Are you sure you… you know… that you've done this before?"

Alexis bit her lip. "But… I mean…"

"Mademoiselle Lexington…" ventured Ben, quite bravely. "Would not you _yourself_ be able to verify that Mr. Newton was wearing said jacket? You said you ran into him around eight o'clock, right?"

Alexis' eyes widened. "Oh… wait… was that…" She closed her eyes. "Inconceivable, unthinkable, beyond belief… it _was_ the same jacket wasn't it?"

A BANG! Came from the judge's desk, but it didn't come from the gavel. Scotty groaned, and picked his head off the desk. "You know, it's times like this that make me want to either call a mistrial or strip someone's badge away…" Needing comfort, he took a large bite out of his sandwich.

"No!" Alexis said frantically, waving her arms. "That was a mistake on my part, I'll admit, but if you could just…"

"Mademoiselle?" Ben called. "Perhaps it would be prudent if you allowed me to take over from here?" He stood up from his seat hesitantly. "I am not saying that you are _incapable_ of continuing, mind you, but perhaps for Monsieur Culligan's _and_ Monsieur Scotty's peace of mind, we could…"

Alexis shook visibly, and then grabbed her dictionary. "NO!" She yelled, swinging the dictionary with full force towards Ben's head.

Ben caught her arm, ripped the dictionary from her hands, and threw it aside. He glared directly in her eyes. "_Sit. Down._" It wasn't a suggestion. It was an order.

Alexis stared wide-eyed for a minute, standing shocked-silent along with the rest of the courtroom. Slowly and meekly, she made her way to a seat next to Culligan.

Ben closed his eyes for a minute, and gulped hard. "Well then…" He smiled. "Let us continue with the trial, yes Monsieur Scotty?"

"O…k…" Scotty said unsurely, after swallowing the food that had remained shock-still in his mouth during the incident. "So that's… Tanya 1, Miriam 0…" He scratched his head. "Actually it's Moore like Miriam –3, but hey, _who's on trial?_"

"Um… Monsieur Scotty?"

"I suppose that was offensive too, yes?" asked Scotty, fiddling with the forelock of his hair. (Not everyday you get to use the word forelock. I feel accomplished.) "Well, I hope you'll forgive me for that, Mr. Paraclete, partially because I'm _really_ starting to get frustrated with this trial and partially becauseI _actually_ got your name right."

"You did. And I thank you, Monsieur Scotty." Ben said with a quick bow. "At this time, the defense would like to change the direction that it has been taking this case thus far. I hope you can forgive this, but new evidence has come in, not to mention we have decided to change… how would you put it… 'Case Leaders?'"

"I am _very_ used to giving second Chances to attorneys from Thenue and Noble, Mr. Paraclete, mostly because Moore _never _gets anything right the first time" Scotty laughed.

"I present that!" Chance yelled. "E… wait…"

"Exactly." Scotty nodded. "Just call your next witness, _monsieur_."

"Thank you." Ben cleared his throat. "At this point, the defense would like to call Morage Thenue to the stand."

"I plead the fifth," Morage grumbled.

"B-B-But…" Ben stuttered. "Your testimony… if you gave it in court…"

"My testimony is not for the public to hear. _Understood?_"

"But… our case…"

"NO."

"O…k…" Ben said, slumping over. "Then… I suppose the defense calls Zak Newton to the stand…"

"Could I have a minute?" Zak said, gripping his back and rubbing his head as he took the stand. "A tip for next time, Chance, you _never_ go for the head first… the victim gets all fuzzy and, well…"

"I'm… _pretty_ sure I only attacked your neck and back, Cocoa Bear." Chance commented. He went over the fight again in his mind. "Yup… full nelson to the neck… tire chain to the back… no head injuries."

"Then why does my head hurt?" Zak asked, shifting his hard hat back and forth. "Oh… right. Trauma from the baby grand… thing…" He laughed. "Good thinking on that one Chance, for the win and all that."

"Yeah… thanks…" Chancellor said hesitantly. _Ok. Unless we're having some kind of soap opera-esque 'oh, that didn't actually happen' thing here, I'm _absolutely_ sure I _just_ got into a fistfight with this guy. Is he _that_ forgiving? Or should I be _really_ suspicious right now? Oh… I wish I could comment on the trial…_

"Ahem" Ben cleared his throat. "Mr. Newton, you _do_ realize why we have called you to the stand, yes?"

"Yeah" Zak nodded. "Why?"

"You just don't seem very worried is all, monsieur…"

"Hey, I told you. I'm afraid of pianos, _not_ pianists." He smiled. "Besides, how can you _possibly_ convict me? It's not like I did anything…"

"Then perhaps…" Ben led in "to save us all some time, you could tell us what you were doing at the time of the murder?"

"Well, of course!" Zak said, clearing his throat. "I was on the lower deck with my mentor, Detective Spade! Even he can testify to that!"

"And that was…"

"At around 10:20, when the murder occurred."

**Pardon me!**

"But, Mr. Newton, you can not assume that that was when the murder occurred… the autopsy report _you yourself_ put out states the murder could have occurred between 9:30 and 10:30…"

"Well, yeah…" Zak said, fiddling with his hard hat, "but there's testimony on record saying that Mrs. Noble was after 10:00, by which time I had already run into Mr. Ne` Chrome over there." He smiled. "So maybe the murder occurred around 10:05 or 10:10, but what does that prove? I've still got an alibi." He laughed. "Don't think you'll catch _me_ off guard, Benji, I cam prepared!"

"Benvolio" Ben corrected patiently. "And, Mr. Newton, I am _quite_ surprised you just said what you did." Zak gave him a questioning look, and Ben continued. "For you see, while you were _in the room_, monsieur…"

"_We proved that the person Monsieur Ne` Chrome _thought_ was Mrs. Noble was, in fact, YOU!_"

Zak flinched back, and a wooden beam fell from above, knocking into his hard hat. "Happens all the time," he muttered, before he shook his head and recovered. "Yeah… I suppose you're right on that one…" He laughed. "I'm kind of surprised I missed that one myself, actually!"

Scotty groaned. "It's going to be a _long_ day, isn't it?" He slurped at his soda. "So, Mr. Paraclete, I'm assuming you claim that the murder occurred _before_ ten o'clock?"

"Well... yes!" Ben nodded enthusiastically. "How did you…"

"Because if you _weren't, _you'd have no case." He shook his head. "I've seen _quite _a few trials, Mr. Paraclete, and rest assured, I know what I'm doing."

_But I thought Scotty _didn't_ know…_ thought Chance.

"Yes…" Ben said, clearing his throat again. "Very well then, allow us to proceed…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"I'm afraid I'll have to stop you there" said Tanya with a grin. "For you see, even _if_ it was Mr. Newton that Andre` Ne` Chrome saw, the murder _still_ couldn't have occurred Moore than say… ten minutes before the time that the body was discovered!"

"Oh?" Asked Ben. "And why is that, mademoiselle?"

"Because you see, Mr. Parachute…" Tanya said confidently. "The autopsy report that _you just cited_ says that 'the amount of blood seemed not to correspond with the wound"… there was too little!" She flicked her hair back and smiled. "If the body had sat for any length of time, that little problem would be erased, would it not?"

"The meaning of that _has_ been bothering me…" Scotty said, his mouth full of French Fries. "Mr. Paraclete? Anything?"

"Well…" Ben said, putting his hands up innocently. "The best way for a forensics analyst to cover up his crime would be to forge his autopsy report, wouldn't it?"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"That statement has about as sturdy a foundation as the _Leaning Tower of Pisa!_ There's no fact to back it up!"

**Pardon me!**

"But I believe there is, mademoiselle." Ben said, producing Mrs. Noble's medical records. "It says in these records that Mrs. Noble's blood clotted at an abnormally _low_ rate!"

_"There should have been Moore blood than anyone could handle, not barely enough to notice!"_

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"**BUT!**" Tanya yelled, slamming the wall behind her. "The forensics team at the police lab _confirmed_ Mr. Newton's findings! They are not _purely _his own!"

**Pardon me!**

"But, I believe you may have noticed that Monsieur Spade talks very highly of Monsieur Newton?" Ben shook his head. "Is it so hard to believe that the team's judgment may have been swayed by Spade's constant praise? That they took Newton's findings on faith, seeing as the teams' examination was performed _in a lab_ and not at the scene?"

"Well… no!" Tanya countered. "If we assume that, then the entire integrity of our police force is called into question, isn't it?"  
"Well, yeah…" Scotty commented. "But I've seen _plenty_ a case where the police have made a mistake… it's not as uncommon as you might think." He smiled. "It's nice to see you have such absolute confidence in our force, though, Ms. Krasivaya."

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Even if the police _did_ make a mistake, there's one thing that doesn't add up! If Mrs. Noble was, as you say, killed prior to 10:00, and her blood flow was so extreme, the floor should have been _covered_ in blood! _Where did the extra blood go!_"

**Pardon me!**

"But… you _do_ have a medical expert to testify to that effect, right?"

"Huh?" Tanya said, cocking her head to the side.

"Well, I highly doubt that you yourself know the flow rate of human blood, Mademoiselle. Who is to say that the blood found at the scene _was not_ too much, besides our highly biased forensics expert there."

"Hey!" Zak snapped. "I take _great pride_ in my work, I'll have you know, and that report as objective as they come!"

"Which is, of course, what you would say, if you were the killer" Ben commented.

"Well yeah, but…" Zak murmured.

"ORDER UUUUUUP!" yelled Scotty, not banging his gavel because eh had a chicken wrap in his hand. "The court acknowledges that there is a possibility the murder occurred _before_ 10:00, giving Mr. Newton the opportunity to have committed the crime." He took a bite. "What I'm Moore interested in now is _why_ Mr. Newton would have killed Kendra Noble."

"That's what _I'd_ like to know as well, your honor" Zak said shifting his hard hat again. "I may not have known Mrs. Noble for very long, but as far as _I_ know, she was a loving wife and skilled attorney. I'm _pretty_ sure I've got not motive in this case."

**Pardon me!**

"But… wasn't Mrs. Noble blackmailing you?"

"_What?_" Zak said, flinching back and causing another wooden beam to fall on his head. "Happens all the time! What makes you think that?"

"Well these files marked 'Zak' and 'Sara Newton', mostly." Ben set the files on Scotty's bench. "Let it be known to the court that it was at the _mention_ of one Sara Newton that the witness became violent and attempted to escape the courthouse."

"Erm…" Zak said, playing with his hard hat again. "Well… yeah, ok, she was blackmailing me…" He cleared his throat. "The only thing is, I only really found out _yesterday _as to what I was being blackmailed _about…_"

"Excellent" Ben nodded. "That is exactly what I was about to try and prove. This letter you wrote to Mrs. Noble says as much."

"So… ok then!" Zak smiled. "We're in agreement so… you're saying I'm innocent?"

"No" Ben explained calmly. "I am saying that you discovered Mrs. Noble was your blackmailer only yesterday, began arguing in her room, and grabbed the fireplace poker out of rage, killing her." He put up his hands. "Though that may seem a bit much to assume, you _did_ just say you only found out yesterday, and your fingerprints _are_ on the fireplace poker…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"_As are your client's!_" Tanya countered back. "The very same could be said about Mr. Culligan as well!"

**Pardon me!**

"But, if you look at the report, Culligan's _left_ hand fingerprints are on the weapon." Ben explained.

"And?" Tanya asked expectantly.

"And the blow on Mrs. Noble's skull is on her _right_." Ben finished. "Now, you have read _To Kill A Mockingbird,_ yes mademoiselle? Is it not the same scenario? Would it not be exceedingly difficult to lethally strike the right side of someone's head with the _left hand?_ It requires a swing that is both slow and unnatural!"

_"The defense holds that, because of this fact, Mr. Culligan can be cleared of suspicion, while Mr. Newton can not!_"

The court was silent. In awe, even. Such a masterful defense, constructed with such care and fluidity. The only thing that remained to be seen was the final piece of evidence that would send Newton to jail.

"Um… hi." Newton said from stand.

"Yes, Monsieur _murderer?_" Ben asked confidently.

"Well… two things, actually." Zak said, almost awkwardly. "One: that was brilliant. Heck, I almost thought I was guilty for a minute, I really did. But, second… I was asked to bring this from the lab on my way here… kind of forgot what with everything going on…" He pulled a piece of paper from his jacket. "The boys at the lab… they finished the analysis of the fire poker…"

"What?" Ben asked, confused.

"You know… the earlier report only gave a specific fingerprinted hand for the main suspect." He smiled. "I guess they thought it would be helpful if they did the same for everyone…"

Detailed fingerprint report (crow bar):

Gilligan Culligan: Left hand.

Kendra Noble: Right hand.

Jacopo Noble: Right hand.

Zak Newton: Left hand.

Athena Aegis: Right hand.

Morage Thenue: Right hand.

Ben stood still for a minute, thinking. He walked over to Ms. Aegis, picked up her dictionary, and threw it at Newton.

He caught it, with his right hand.

"So you are right handed as well…" Ben murmured. "But then… that means…" His eyes lit up. "No… no, that is just…"

"Figured it out, didn't you?" Chance said. He looked Ben in the eye. "Can you do it?"

Ben was silent for a minute. "I… I do no think so, no…" He shook his head. "No… I could not possibly…"

"Understandable" Chance said, standing up and patting Ben on the back. "But please? I've got _twice_ as much to lose if _I_ do it…"

"I know… I am sorry…" Ben sniffed, a tear forming in his eye. "But I simply could not… after everything that has happened…"

"Yeah. I know."

"_COULD ONE OF YOU PLEASE EXPLAIN WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT?"_ Scotty and Tanya yelled simultaneously.

"With displeasure" Chance sighed, taking the stand as Ben sat down, looking defeated.

Tanya's eyes widened. She shook her head minutely, mouthing "No! Don't! Please!"

"I'm sorry." Chance said. "I just… can't let it go, you know? I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

Tanya gulped hard, and tightened her fists. "Very well then" she said, eyes closed. "If you _must, _Mr. Moore."

"Alright then" Chance said, taking a breath to prepare himself. "At this time, the defense would like to enact the 'three strikes and you're out' rule."

"Pardon me, Chance?" Scotty asked.

"Well we've already accused the wrong person twice, but since we're not out until the _third_ strike, the trial can still continue, right?"

Scotty's mouth opened, then closed. "Only because there's _three_ of you, I'm willing to accept that." He straightened up. "So you've decided that Mr. Newton _isn't_ the killer?"

"For the same reason that Mr. _Culligan_ isn't the killer, yeah" Chance nodded. "Both of them only knew who they were being blackmailed by the _day of_ the murder, yes, but each of them have their _left_ handprints on the crowbar. Also" Chance added. "I'd like to draw the attention of the court to the fact that while the safe and the crowbar bear both Mr. Culligan's _and_ Mr. Newton's prints, there are absolutely _no_ prints on the safe-cracking tools they would have presumably used to open the safe and obtain their respective files!

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"So what are you saying, Moore?" Tanya objected. "That _neither _of them broke into the safe? I think that the picture of the safe having a bar sawn threw and a giant _hole_ in the center is _Moore_ than enough evidence to prove otherwise!"

"I'm not saying that they didn't go into the safe" Chancellor explained calmly. "I'm _saying_ that the safe was already broken into upon each of them finding Mrs. Noble's body."

A question mark appeared over the head of practically everyone in the courtroom.

"Don't tell me…" DuClaw said from the gallery. "One of them was_ actually_ smart enough to deduce the truth? And it was the _freak_?"

"I told you." Cassie bragged. "I _told_ you he could do it." She smiled. "I just hope he explains it soon, because the suspense is _killing_ me!"

"You see" Chance explained. "After quite a bit of processing, plus a bit of _trial_ and error." He chuckled at the pun, and everyone else groaned. "The defense has deduced the true identity of the murderer!"

He was silent for a moment, unsure whether or not he wanted to proceed or not. Then, with a bit of dramatic flair (of course) he whipped his hand around and pointed to the gallery. "_The defense names one _Jacopo Noble_ as the true murder of his wife!_"

"The _hell?_" Tanya screamed, as the entire courtroom went into disarray. Mr. Noble picked up his head to show a face still streaked with tears, and Morage, sitting right next to him, screamed at the top of his lungs: "MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!"

Chancellor cringed. _I am _so_ getting fired for this._


	18. Part 11

Disclaimer: Super Sue-er suits are gonna find me; stick to me like gluuuue. Like they always doooooo. Unless I say I don't own yooooooou.

(Except… well… you know. I do own pretty much everything.)

Hi everyone? Did the last cliffhanger leave you wanting Moore? Have you been trying to piece together a case against Noble? Perhaps you still think it's someone else? Why am I asking all these questions? You want to find out what Chance's reasoning is, don't you? Well then, on to the show?

Turnabout of the Ancient Mariner

(Trial, part 6)

- District courthouse. 7/11. 2:30 pm. (Though does the time _really_ matter?)

Jacopo Noble took the stand, looking everything like a man who had just lost the most important thing in his life, and _nothing_ like a man who had taken it away himself.

"Moore?" Said Tanya condescendingly." You _do_ realize that you just accused a pathetic-looking, clinically depressed old man who is so mentally scarred he can only speak _in lyrics_ of murder, right? And, to add icing to the cake, one that holds the future of your career in the palms of his shaking hands?"

"I've never been accused of being sane" Chance responded with a grimace. "Nevertheless… I'm sure about this one."

"The things you said, you can't take them back again" said Mr. Noble angrily from the witness stand. "Alright? Ok? You're fired, now I want out."

"I _thought_ you'd say something like that," Chance said expectantly, pulling out a copy of his contract from his briefcase. "But I'll have you know that it says here that any decision on letting me go has to be made by a majority decision of the three senior partners." He bit his lip. "Though quite honestly, I had that provision put in there because of Mr. Thenue, not you."

In the gallery, Cassie has produced a handkerchief from her pocket, and was gagging Morage, stopping him from screaming "_I agree! You're fired! Get the heck out of this courtroom!_"

"And Mr. Noble, you'll forgive my… bluntness, I suppose," Chance continued. "But must you _really_ keep speaking in song? I think we _all_ know you have enough presence of mind to not let depression take you over."

"_Don't you realize what I'm going through?_" Noble yelled suddenly from the bench. "All the things that she used to bring, all the songs that she used to sing, all her favorite TV shows have gone out the window!"

"And the fact that you did it yourself makes it that much Moore painful, doesn't it?" Chance said warily. "But I mean… c'mon… How should I say this…" He quickly racked his brain, thinking of some way to reach through to the witness. "'Unless we try, the innocent will die… you can't close your eyes, keep living a lie!'"

"You realize those are the lyrics for 'I'm Innocent', right?" Noble snapped.

"And I _am_ innocent" Chance said. "And it's nice to see you talking normal for a change, sir."

"Hmph" Noble pouted, straightening up a little. "Well, _I'm_ innocent as well, I'll have you know, Moore." His eyes narrowed, and tears welled up in the corners. "Until you _prove_ otherwise, that is."

"Very well then…" Chance began, clearing his throat. "First things first…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

**"**_I didn't say anything yet!"_ balked Chancellor.

"You don't have to" Tanya said with an almost relieved smirk. "Because there's a glaring contradiction to this farce of an idea right from the get go."

"There… there is?" Chance frowned.

"Quite." Tanya said curtly. "_Motive_, Moore. As you can plainly see, Mr. Noble has been shaken up something terrible by this whole ordeal." She nodded solemnly. "I believe, from what I've heard, that he was angered to the point of rage and tears when finding out, and threatened to _hang_ whoever was responsible for it, no?"

"Well, not exactly…" Chance corrected. "He said that he _wanted_ the man responsible hanged." Chance looked away from Mr. Noble. "And, well… I hate to point this out but… he _did_ try hanging himself earlier today…"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Completely irrelevant, not to mention _tactless_, Mr. Moore!" Tanya yelled. "Are you saying that if _your_ significant other was to die suddenly, you wouldn't contemplate, if not _attempt_ suicide?"

"_WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT?_" Chance screamed, face suddenly red with anger. The courtroom gasped. There was, truly, a first time for everything.

"He gets _mad_?" Cassie whispered, her jaw agape.

"Wrong question at the wrong time…" Thompson said, shaking his head. "Poor girl, she must be terrified."

Chance's face strained with the effort of keeping under control. His mouth stung with pain as he literally bit his tongue to keep from saying Moore. He took a deep breath, let it out shakily, and muttered, "Sorry. It's… a sensitive subject."

Tanya stared wide-eyed from across the courtroom, clutching herself tightly. She opened her mouth, and, to her surprise, found herself at a loss for words.

"Now what were we talking about?" Chance asked rhetorically. He paused. "Um… come to think of it, what _were_ we talking about?"

"Motive, anyone?" Scotty said softly, holding a crushed cup in place of a gavel.

"Yes…" Tanya began warily. "Yes, exactly. The point I was trying to make was that Mr. and Mrs. Noble has an incredibly happy marriage. There were, as far as anyone could tell, no problems, am I wrong?"

"Absolutely not, absolutely not" Noble said. "There once was a man who loved a woman… she was the one he ate the apple for. They say that nobody ever loved as much as he… but me… I loved Kenny more." He sniffed. "Even when she came down with mono… even when she developed her heart condition… I still stood by her. Why would I… what could cause me to…?" His voice caught in his throat. "We had our spats, as all couples do, but… I never had any reason to become angry to the point of _violence_…"

**OBJECTION!**

"Finally…" Scotty said, tears of bliss welling in his eyes. "A _normal_ objection… but… was that even testimony?"

"The defense has the right to cross-examine _all_ statements made by the witness, your honor." Chance nodded.

_Who would object during an old man's _crying_ session?_ Tanya thought angrily. _If I had my Stilettos on, why I'd…_

"Mr. Noble, you _have_ been listening to the trial thus far, yes?"

"Yes…" Noble sniffed. "What kind of monster would I be not to show up for my own wife's trial?"

"So you've heard the allegations brought against Mrs. Kendra?" Chance pressed. "Namely, that she was a blackmailer?"

"Yes…"

"Does that surprise you at all?"

Noble was silent for a moment. "What… what do you mean?"

"Well it's just that you were her _husband_… surely you knew? Perhaps even helped a little?"

"_Never!_" Noble balked. "I would never condone such action!"

"Then why allow it to continue?" Chance pressed further.

"Well… quite honestly, I had no idea!" Noble said defensively.

"Oh, come off it!" Chance slammed a fist down on the desk. "As this record from Red Herring Fisheries shows, your wife has been blackmailing people for _years!_ How could you _not_ know?"

"I…I d-didn't…" Noble stuttered. "W-why are you…?"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Your honor, do something!" Tanya yelled. "Badgering the witness is bad enough, but badgering an old man about his dead wife's actions is almost as bad as _murder!_"

"Chancellor…" Scotty said warningly. "You are being a bit aggressive today…"

"Only wanted to prove a point, Scotty." Chance smiled. "I just wanted to show, quite clearly, how utterly clueless Mr. Noble was about his wife's actions."

"That's nice, Mr. Moore." Tanya placated. "But you'll forgive me for saying… _who cares?_" She flicked her hair back dismissively. "This trial doesn't concern the innocence of Mr. Noble of blackmail conspiracy, but Mr. Culligan of _murder_, I do hope you hadn't mixed that up?"

"Not this time" Chance laughed. "I wanted to show that so I could ask this." He paused. "If you found out that your significant other had hid criminal activities behind your back for years, how _angry_ would you be?"

"Furious, pro… hey, wait a minute!" Tanya stopped. "How is this question any better than the one you blew up over earlier?"

"_You wouldn't know_." Chance said sternly. "But I will thank you for answering the question… yes, anyone _would_ be furious, wouldn't they?"

"I _was_ furious" Noble said from the stand.

_Ah!_ Chance thought excitedly. _A confession?_

"I _was_ furious when I found out in the courtroom today." Noble said solemnly. "I had no idea before then."

_… Oh well. No one ever_ _said it would be easy…_

"He's got you there, Chance" Scotty nodded slowly. "You _don't_ have any conclusive proof that Mr. Noble found out about his wife before today."

"Maybe…" Chance thought. "Maybe not…" He walked to the center of the courtroom. "Hey! Liam!"

"_What?_" The green-haired boy screamed from shock.

"Do you still have that thing of fingerprint powder?"

"Well…" he rummaged through his jeans pocket. "Seriously… here." He threw the bottle at Chance, who caught it nimbly in on hand and walked back to the defense's bench. "Let us see…" he muttered to himself, pulling out the blackmail file marked 'Culligan' "…if my argument holds any water, shall we?" He dusted, blew the powder off, and examined the fingerprints carefully." "That…" he said, pointing to a thumbprint near the edge of the folder "… if I'm not mistaken, is Mr. Jacopo Noble's thumbprint. Am I right, Cocoa bear?"

The forensics detective walked over to the defense's bench, looked over the results quickly, and nodded. "Without a doubt, buddy." He gave a thumbs-up sign, and slapped Chance on the back. "We're good!"

"Great!" Chance said, slapping Zak on the back in return. The detective cringed. His back was still sore from the scuffle. "Oh… right… sorry…"

"Happens…all… the time…" Zak said through clenched teeth.

Chancellor laughed nervously. "Anyway…" He slammed the desk to emphasize his point. "_The only time you could have touched this folder was the day of the murder, Mr. Noble! That proves you knew about your wife's activities!_"

"WAAH!" Noble cried, letting out a few tears. "Alright… fine, I'll admit it…" He sobbed, his body shaking with each heave. "I knew… but…" He straightened up. "I had… the exact opposite reaction, I'm afraid."

Chance paused. "What do you mean?"

"Well… I suppose what I mean is… I agreed to keep it our dirty little secret." He smiled a small, sad smile. "You see, Mr. Moore, unlike you, _some_ people in this world have a sense of _loyalty._" He stared into the younger lawyer's eyes. "_I_ don't abandon people when they mess up, _least_ of all my wife."

"You knew that your wife was keeping your _close friend_ from being with his wife for _years_, and you didn't do anything? Yes, you're a _very_ loyal man, aren't you?" Chance said caustically. "Not to mention the sense of human dignity you possess."

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"Mr. Moore! Personal attacks on the witness will not be allowed!" Tanya interrupted.

**OBJECTION!**

"It's not a personal attack, it's a _point!_" Chance yelled. "Mr. Culligan and Mr. Noble were close friends, it'd be entirely unnatural for him not to be angry! Besides that, if he found out about one file…" he paused. "It only follows that he found out about _all_ of them. Every single person Kenny Noble ever met was in that safe!"

"_If a man can discover such an atrocity and not feel a thing, how can he be expected to cry when his wife dies?_"

**BOЗPAЖEHИE!**

"There's absolutely nothing to this argument! It _reeks _of opinion just as a dog reeks after a rainstorm!"

**OBJECTIONING!**

"There's nothing opinioning about it!" Culligan protested. "I'd being trusting Jacopo Noble with my _life_!"

There was silence. Noble bit his lip. "I… Gilligan…" He looked away. "Of course I was furious." He said after a pause. "How couldn't I be? But…" He slammed a hand down on the witness stand, and shouted at Chancellor "_I DIDN'T KILL MY WIFE!_"

"If the court rules that, maybe you'll believe it, huh?" Chance responded.

"What…" sputtered Noble angrily. "What are you…"

"Mr. Noble… believe me when I say this… I _know_ what guilt feels like." Chancellor looked away for a moment. "I know that… all too well… actually." He cleared his throat. "And I also know… that you really _did_ love your wife. For as little as I've known you… I at least know that much." He stared into Noble's eyes. "But, quite frankly sir, sending an innocent man to prison, and possibly _death_, just to allow yourself the pleasure of denial is going _too far._ And I'd rather lose my job than sit back and watch you do it."

Noble stared back into Chancellor's eyes, and smiled. "Very well then, Mr. Moore." He straightened up and cracked his knuckles. "Let us have a battle of wits, you and I."

"Mr. Noble?" Tanya interjected. "That's my job actually…"

"_Stay. Out of this._" Noble shot at the prosecutor. "There is nothing you can say in my defense that I will not use."

Tanya opened her mouth to object… and sat down. _Attorneys… DAMN IT, I HATE ATTORNEYS!_

"First of all" Noble began. "I still don't see why it couldn't have been Mr. Newton or Mr. Culligan" Noble challenged. "You _do_ realize that Mr. Paraclete's theory only applies if the attacker is _in front_ of the victim, yes? Not only that, but I also have a problem with your claim that a forehand swing can't be powerful… don't you ever watch tennis? And _finally_" he smiled. "There is always the possibility that Mr. Culligan wiped his prints off, yet inadvertently left his other hand's prints on the poker!"

"I thought about that." Chance countered. "And I'd like the court to think about the _position_ a man would be in if he was trying to crack a safe." He held up a photo of the crime scene. "You'll notice the poker holder is sitting to the _left_ of the safe, right?"

"_What of it?"_ Noble pushed back.

"If Kendra Noble had come in and discovered someone breaking into the safe…" Chance mused. "and a safe-cracker had been squatting in front of the safe at the time, the thief would grab the poker instinctively with the LEFT hand and swing backward, as Ben suggested! That would mean that the left side of Mrs. Noble's head would have been hit, not the right!"

"Would that not also apply to me, though?" Noble shot back. "If my wife found me rummaging through her safe, and I became angry with her, wouldn't I also grab the poker with my left and not my right?"

"You would _react_ with your left hand, true enough." Chance retorted. "But as I've already said… you really did love your wife. I don't think you ever _intended_ to kill her."

"Then how do you explain what happened, Moore?" Noble said, his voice beginning to rise in volume. "If I never intended to kill my wife, why is she dead?"

"Because of what your left hand _did_ do that night!" Chance said. "About an hour before the trial reconvened, detective Ricardo Writchard found a very clear imprint of your _left hand_ on your wife's distinctive jacket, above the left chest!"

"If love is a crime, I'd _do_ my time, Mr. Moore!" Noble spat back. "Kenny and I are _married!_ Is it a crime for me to have a little fun now and again?"

"Perhaps not, but it's _incredibly_ dangerous, considering."

"Considering _what?_"

"CONSIDERING a certain 'incident' that happened on the ship that night!" Chance yelled. "Your wedding ring was sucked up by a magnet! And when such a small piece of metal is caught up by an electromagnet large enough to lift a _submarine_, it too becomes magnetized!"

Noble leaned over the witness stand. "POINT, Moore? What does that have to do with my wife's death?"

"Because your wife, as these medical records show, had a _pacemaker_, and according to your own testimony earlier today, she had a heart condition! And when a magnet gets too close to a pacemaker, IT STOPS WORKING!"

"_When your hand, wearing the magnetized ring, hit the area over Kendra Noble's heart hard enough to make a _well-defined handprint_, the pacemaker stopped working, AND SHE WENT INTO CARDIAC ARREST!_"

Noble gasped, but held his ground. "So you're saying I killed my wife to put her out of her misery? If what you're saying had actually happened, I would have run for a doctor instantly!"

"Not so!" Chance yelled back. "You had just found out your wife was a blackmailer! Not only were you angry at her for lying to you for years, but you were also afraid to contact anyone else, less they take legal action against her or you!" He slammed the desk, hard. "_And on top of it all, as far as you knew, you had just murdered your wife with your own hands!_"

"WAAH!" Noble cried, cringing back slightly.

"So many impulses were running through your body, you didn't know _what _to do!" Chance continued. "In panic, anger, fear… I don't pretend to know _what_ it was, but _something_ caused you to decide to clear yourself from the crime, make it look like a break-in gone wrong! So you grabbed the poker, with your _right_ hand, since you weren't squatting in front of the safe at the time, and struck your unconscious wife on the head! You used the safecracking tools, making sure you left no fingerprints, to make it look like the safe had been broken into, _and then you just left and waited!_"

"_Preposterous!_" Noble yelled. "Even if it _does_ sound somewhat believable, you're missing one _crucial_ detail, rookie! As it's been said before, there was an inordinately low amount of blood at the crime scene! Considering that Kenny was a _hemophiliac_, that mean the body must have been discovered _minutes_ after her murder!"

"_Which puts the time of the murder close to 8:30! _And as you _well_ know, I have an alibi for that time! _I WAS WITH YOU! SHOWING YOU MY SUBMARINE!_"

Chance smiled "The answer to that question is also the _conclusive proof_ that shows you're the murderer, Mr. Noble!" He puffed out his chest. "Mrs. Noble_ was_ a hemophiliac! Her blood didn't clot in the slightest!" Chance shook his head. "I don't care _how_ fast you find the body after the murder, blood should have been _everywhere!_ The only way that there could have been _less_ blood than usual at the crime scene…" he paused. "Is if the heart was no longer pumping at the time of impact." He pointed accusingly at Mr. Noble.

"_And the only reason Kendra Noble's heart would have stopped _before_ her death was if her pacemaker had been disturbed!_"

Noble was silent. His bottom lip began to tremble, and tears began to stream down his face. "So it's true… isn't it?" He sniffed. "It… it was me… I…" He hung his head. "I never wanted it to happen. It was an accident. A goddamn _freak accident_ and…" He shook his head. "I can't make excuses for myself. I don't deserve such niceties…"

"Mr. Noble…" Alexis pouted. "Mr. Noble, I _know_ that you'd never…"

"But nevertheless… I did." He sobbed repeatedly, his chest shaking violently. "The only thing that gives me comfort is knowing that…" he sniffed. "She's climbing… the stairway… to heaven!"

There was nothing left to say. The bailiff led Jacopo Noble away, and Judge Scotty pronounced the words **Not Guilty.** The trial was over.

-Defendant's lobby. 3:30 pm.

Cassandra burst into the lobby, giving the classic victory screech as she ran towards Chancellor. "Congratulations Mr. Culligan!" She yelled. She paused, and looked around the room. "Mr.… Culligan?"

"He left already" Chance explained, lounging on the sofa. "He's attending to Mr. Noble, as a good friend should, I suppose."

"Not exactly the grateful type, is he?" Cassie joked.

"Nah, I don't blame him." Chance said, shaking his head. "Your friend's well being comes before _everything_, after all."

"_Except_ for payment." Ricky said, strolling into the room. "And how is it you expect to pay my retainer if you get fired?"

"If I get fired, I won't _need_ you any more, will I now?" Chance shot back.

Ricky opened his mouth, and closed it. "Good point."

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Came a familiar, almost endearing scream from the hallway.

"Look on the bright side" Chance said, standing up and putting a hand on Ricky's shoulder for support. "No Moore running around at my every whim, right?"

Morage Thenue stormed in, face as red as a granny apple. (…wait… never mind.) "_MOORE!_ _ Do you _realize_ what you've _done?_ The entire reputation of Thenue and Noble has been completely demolished, one of our best attorneys, not to mention one of my BEST FRIENDS, has just been put behind bars, and you've succeeded in making at least one, if not BOTH, of your partners look like incapable IDIOTS!_" He growled savagely. "Are you SATISIFED?"

"Why yes, I'm satisfied" Chance nodded. "Are you satisfied Cassie?"

"Why yes, I'm satisfied" Cassie nodded. "Are you satisfied Ricky?"

"Why yes, I'm satisfied" Ricky nodded. "Are you satisfied, Mr. Thenue?"

"Why yes, I'm… _NO I'M NOT SATISFED!_" Morage screamed. He put his face in his hand and took deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. "Chancellor… after all you've done… you've left me with no choice."

_Here it comes… The big one. The 'f' word. And I don't mean fudge._

"I hate doing this…" Morage said, clearing his throat. "But…"

_Oh c'mon! Just lay it on quickly! Get it OVER with!_

"I'm giving you the junior partner slot."

"But Mr. Thenue I…" Chance stopped protesting. "Wait… what?"

"_Don't_ make me say it AGAIN, Moore," he grumbled. "Once was already enough pain for several decades."

"Wha… how…" Chance stuttered.

"I was completely against it, rest assured." Morage growled. "But Ms. Aegis and Mr. Noble were both adamant that you be given the slot, seeing how well you've handled this case."

_… Tell me… how is it that a man big enough to reward an attorney for sending him to jail do anything deserving of being sent to jail in the first place?_ "W… thank you." Chance nodded, hastily shaking Mr. Thenue's hand. "Does this mean my name gets put on the firm's title?"

"_NO!_"

"Oh… but…" Chance frowned. "I had this _great_ advertising slogan worked up." He put his hand in the air. "You got cases? We can solve Moore Thenue!"

Mr. Thenue, overcome with the sudden urge to smile, quickly left the room.

Ricky laughed. "Now _that_ didn't turn out too bad, did it?"

"I wouldn't speak so soon," Cassie whispered.

"Why not?"

Cassie pointed to the doorway, where Tanya was motioning Chance to come.

Chancellor gulped, and slowly made his way to the Russian prosecutor.

She was in tears. As he drew close, she flung herself on him, and began to weep openly. "Chancellor… why…. I'm _so_ sorry but…" Nothing she said was coherent.

_Good gravy… I never realized how traumatic this was for her…_

"Chancellor…" she said, finally pulling herself together. "I know you're just doing your job, but…"

"That's _my_ line." Chance said angrily.

Tanya's head jerked up. "What? What are you…"

"You _know_ what I'm talking about!" Chance said, raising his voice. "I could have _lost my job_ in there, Tanya! And all you did was try to destroy my case! I mean, I know it's your job but _come on!_ You could have at _least_ backed off a little!"

"What… how…" Tanya reared up. "_What gives you the _NERVE _to say something like that to me?_"

"I'm _Chancellor Moore!_" Chance said. "You _know_ I've got that kind of nerve! And if you don't like it, then…" He stopped. "Well, I'm not sure I'd go _that_ far but…"

Tanya looked at him in disgust. _I'm not sure how he did it _she thought, _but he somehow managed to say everything that would cause me to think 'what did I ever see in him?' within the course of twenty seconds!_ "You know what?" She said, leaning into his face. "Let me finish that sentence for you." She turned around. "We're _through_, Chancellor Moore."

And Chancellor, looking after her for only a brief moment, smiled and turned around, walking back towards Ricky and Cassie.

"_WHAT ARE YOU DOING?_" Ricky yelled in his face. "What… how… _what the HELL possessed you to do that?_"

"How _insensitive_ can you _get, _Chance?" Cassie yelled in turn. "She comes to you, crying about how hard it is for her to prosecute against you, and you _scold_ her? I…_I DIDN'T THINK YOU'D EVER DO SOMETHING THAT HORRIBLE, CHANCELLOR!"_

"Well, now she doesn't have a reason to feel bad wanting to kill me, does she?" Chance said offhandedly.

"Well, _yeah_, but, that doesn't mean you can…" Cassie stopped.

Silence.

"No." Ricky said, shaking his head. "No, no, no, no, no, Chance you _didn't…_"

"Do it on purpose?" Chance said with a sad smile. "Yeah. Of course I did." He shook his head. "You of all people know I'm not that big a jerk, Ricky." He looked back at the doorway, which stood emptier than usual. "I'd rather lose her for life than put her through hell, you know?"

"I'd call that _noble_" came a scratchy voice from behind him. "But I don't want to run the risk of using a horrible pun."

Chance, used to this by now, turned around slowly to face one Stradivarius DuClaw. "And now _you'd_ like to put in your two cents, wouldn't you?" He folded his hands and looked at DuClaw in mock respect. "Well go on, I'm all ears."

"I just thought I'd let you know" the old man said curtly. "That I've decided in your favor."

"…?" Chance gave DuClaw a questioning look.

"I have decided" DuClaw continued, "to acknowledge that, for an attorney, you are, in fact, a decent human being, and have therefore decided to lift that ban that has kept Cassandra here from contacting you for the past two months."

Chance blinked. "Wait…" he said warily. "Why, of all people, do _you_ have that kind of…" He looked frantically from the old man's face to that of Cassie's, and back again. "_You_" he said, pointing a finger at Cassie, "and _you_?" He pointed the finger at DuClaw. "No… no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no."

Cassandra DuClaw smiled. "PLOOOOOOOT TWIIIIIIST!" She sang, overjoyed.

Chance was silent for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Good gravy, I think I'm going to be sick! HA HA!" He sank into a chair. "Ricky… be a pal and get me a cho-cov-stra, will you?"

"Here…" said a voice, and a hand appeared, holding a box from Fondue Stew's.

Chance looked up. "Miriam?" He said, surprised. "You _do_ realize your hand is in grave danger of being bit off like that, right?"

"I'll take my Chances." she smiled. "And since I'm here… I heard about what happened with you and Tanya…"

Chance's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "I… no, I don't think I'll be ready for a relationship _that soon_, Miriam…. Thanks though."

Alexis simply raised her eyebrows. 'Rebound' and 'relationship' _aren't_ synonyms in my book, Moore. Remember that." She left, leaving the people in the room in shock.

"Chance…" Ricky said, sidling over to his best friend slowly. "If _you_ don't want her, I'll be _perfectly_ willing to…"

Chance laughed. "We'll see, buddy. We'll see."

-Central Lobby.

Tanya Krasivaya sat in a chair, waiting for Chancellor. _There's no way he meant it._ She thought. _I was stupid for falling for it to begin with! Stupid, stupid! He can't act his way out of the clichéd paper bag…_ "Ah!" She said, calling out to a man walking by. "You haven't seen Chancellor, have you?"

"Still in the defendant's lobby, last I checked" the man responded. "Laughing, having a good time, I hear he does that a lot after a victory."

Tanya gulped slightly. "He doesn't seem… the slightest bit sad? Perhaps disappointed? Depressed?"

"No…" the man shook his head. "In fact…" the man lowered his voice. "I even overheard he and that Lexington girl talking… something about 'relationships' or something?"

Tanya's eyes widened. "No… no I don't believe."

"That he played you?" The man finished. "That he used you up, found you too burdensome to maintain, and moved on to someone easier to get along with?" The man shook his head. "I don't think_ any_ man would do that to _you_ of all people…"

Tanya blushed. "You're too kind… but… that _is_ what it looks like, isn't it?"

The man hung his head. "Well, if I'm completely honest… yeah, I guess it is." He took a chair next to Tanya, snaking an arm around her shoulders. "But I wouldn't _think_ on it, my little devochka!" He pronounced correctly. "What's exactly so appealing about Chancellor Moore anyway? It's certainly not a _physical_ attraction, I know that…"

"And he didn't turn out to have much _inside_ either, huh?" Tanya finished bitterly. "Slava bogu… what did I _ever…?_"

"Shhhh" the man said, putting a finger to her lips. "Let's not dwell on the past, devochka. The present is, after all, a gift." He stood up, and held his arm out for her. "Let's not waste it."

Tanya smiled, stood up sharply, and took the mans arm. "I agree completely , Mr…" She paused, and shook her head. "I'm sorry… I really should know your name by now…"

The man laughed, and waved it off as nothing. "Paraclete" he pronounced for her. "But please…" he bent down and kissed her hand. "Call me Ben."


	19. Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Turnabout

Disclaimer: I know you know I'm not a Nintendo Guy. I know you know that this story is still mine. Lawsuits are evil. Don't do it friend. Your worst intentions gonna haunt you until the end. (I know, you know. I know, you know).

Parody of a TV show theme song. Bonus points to whoever phones in with the name!

Chancellor Moore, Ace Attorney

Speak Now, or Forever Hold Your Turnabout

Tanya Krasivaya was getting married.

Surprised? So was everyone else. Even the groom.

"Um…" Benvolio Paraclete explained as he sat awkwardly in Chancellor's office, "I am not entirely sure what to say, monsieur…" He flashed an almost apologetic smile. "It just… sort of happened. One minute I was inexplicably going out with her and the next…"

"You just woke up one morning to find yourself engaged?" Chance finished, somewhat amused. "Eeben, you _do_ realize that I'm probably the only person on this planet who'll believe that, right?"

"Benvolio" the Andorran corrected patiently. "And I _know_ it sounds far-fetched Chancellor, but…" he paused, and Chance raised his eyebrows. "Oh… Oh! You _do_ understand… well, that makes my job a little easier then."

"It's what I live for" Chance said, leaning back in his new, plush, junior partner chair. "And while I appreciate the gesture, Ben, it was a bit unnecessary to come and apologize for marrying my ex-girlfriend… even if it _has_ only been a month and a half... you need to try this chair, by the way… it's like a _wave_ of… plush, expensive cushiness..."

"I never pictured you, of all people rushing into something like that" Cassie commented from her desk, ignoring Chancellor. The promotion to junior partner had afforded Chance the luxury of having a secretary, and why go to college when you have a well-paying job already lined up for you? "I mean, _seriously_" she continued, "you've always struck me as the timid, unadventurous, 'let's date each other for five years to see if it'll work out' kind of guy, you know?" She shook her head. "Says worlds about first impressions, doesn't it? How unreliable they can be? I mean, I never would have thought however-many-months-it's-been-now ago that the girl-faced lawyer I met in a detention center would turn into the best big brother character I'd ever had, you know?"

"One, I'm not a 'character'" Chance said, holding up a finger, "and two, I'm still not entirely comfortable with you considering me a part of your family." He shuddered. "I mean, c'mon… if you consider me your brother that means I'd have to consider DuClaw my _father..._" he shuddered again. "_Not. Desirable."_ He turned his attention back to Ben. "But like I was saying, I appreciate the gesture… but I'm fine. Really. Don't worry about it. Now…" He stood up, and gestured towards his chair. "Please, have a seat. Your spine has _never _been so aligned in your life."

"That is not exactly why I am here, Chancellor" Ben said sheepishly. "And… I will pass, but thank you." He looked away, building up his courage." The thing is … I have not been in this country very long, and I do not know many people…" He was silent for a moment. "I was wondering… maybe… you could be my… erm…" He cleared his throat, and then mumbled something under his breath.

"Best man!" Cassie nearly screeched. (She had _extraordinarily_ good hearing.) "Of course he will! Won't you, Chance?"

"Not entirely sure if I'm qualified, but… sure!" Chance laughed. "I'd be happy to, Ben. Heck…" he leaned forward. "I'm even prepared to organize the greatest bachelor party you've ever had in your _life_. You just handle the guest list, ok?"

"Erm…" Ben scratched the back of his neck. "I appreciate the offer, but… I am not exactly the bachelor party type, Chancellor…"

"A pre-wedding reception then" Chance offered, without skipping a beat.

"Changing the name does not change the nature of what it is, Chancellor…"

"It _does_ actually" Chance countered. "With _this _kind of party, you can have both men _and_ women… so the old lady and her friends will be there too, to make sure you don't get too _wild_…" he paused. "Though, quite honestly, I'm not sure they have much to worry about; _are you going to sit in this chair or not?_"

"Sounds delightful" Ben smiled. "The party, not the chair. Thank you superfluously, Chance. You are a good friend." He stood up from his chair. "I will be in touch" he said, leaving the room gracefully.

"Yeah…" Chance said softly, allowing himself a moment of regret. Quite literally a moment. "Cassie!" He said, springing back to life and sinking low into his chair. "About how many gallons of water fill an above ground swimming pool?"

"About… 1,800, I think, depending on the size of the pool."

"Call around and see if you can get a good price on that much Jell-O, will you?"

"Jell-O? Like… gelatin-type Jell-O?"

"Preferably blue, if you could."

- Prosecutor's office. 9/03. 3:00 pm.

"_Chancellor?_" Tanya balked, her eyes widening in disbelief. "You're leaving something as important as a pre-wedding reception to _Chancellor_ of all people?"

"Well…" Ben said nervously. "He _is_ my best man…"

"And I've got nothing _against_ that, Ben, rest assured." Tanya consoled. "I mean, I'll be honest, even after what he did a month and a half ago I can't _help_ but like the guy… but we both _know_ he'll either forget it completely or turn it into a gigantic farce. It's in his nature; he's invariably drawn towards doing it like Pooh is invariably drawn to cleaning out Rabbit's honey supply." She frowned. "I always did think he was a bit greedy and gluttonous, that willy-nilly silly old bear…"

"I always had a secret hatred of Christopher Robin…" Ben commented. "But, anyway, I really do not think we should _worry_ about it." He put on his best smile. "I think that, with Chancellor at the helm, things will turn out to be quite entertaining, do you not?"

Tanya smiled slightly and nodded. "Well… it'll be _interesting_ at the very least."

"Good! Good." Ben sighed. "Well, I have to go… big case in an hour. Bye!" He hurried away.

"Ben! Ben, wait…" She frowned. "He never kisses me goodbye, he always seem inexplicably nervous around me… why am I marrying this guy again?"

"Because he's absolutely perfect in nearly every respect possible, right?" Tracy Spade commented from his desk. "Besides, remember how he proposed to you?"

Tanya smiled and sat down. "How could I forget?" She said, blushing. "I never would have guessed _Ben_, of all people, would be able to set up a candlelit dinner date on top of a water tower, _and_ hire the entire Boston Symphony Orchestra to play… the Torgo theme, from _Manos: The Hands of Fate._"

"I never quite understood why that did the trick, Ms. Krasivaya" Spade said, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"It's the only _good_ thing about the worst movie ever made," Tanya explained, "which symbolically represents that even when times are absolutely terrible, there's still a silver lining to every dark cloud." She smiled. "And it mirrors perfectly the 'for better or for worst, through sickness an in health' part of the nuptial vows, doesn't it?"

Spade blinked twice, trying to comprehend what had just been said. "Do you honestly think he thought it through that much, Ms. Krasivaya?"

She smiled. "Tanya." She insisted. "And, in your own words, Tracy, he _is_ perfect in nearly every respect possible, so I'm sure he _did_ think it through… he was _so_ romantic and… almost _aggressive_ that night." She frowned. "I've only ever seen him like that twice… I kind of wish he could be that way all the time, you know?"

"Well… twice in a month and a half isn't _that_ bad" Spade mused. "What does that make… twelve times a year? Maybe fourteen? That's plenty, wouldn't you say?"

Tanya raised her eyebrows. "Would you happy if you were only able to book one criminal a month?"

"Well, to be quite honest, that's been the department's record since our friend Moore showed up…"

"Oh hush, you're better than that" Tanya scolded, leaning back in her chair. She sighed, looking wistfully up into the ceiling. "I just hope…" she stopped.

"Hope what?"

"It's silly…"

"I've known you for seven years, Ms. Krasivaya; it's about time you started being silly."

"Tanya," she smiled. "And I suppose you're right…" She paused. "I just hope… that there'll be a pool full of gelatin at the reception."

Spade ruffled his brow, stroked his half-five o'clock shadow bemusedly, and surreptitiously went back to doing his paperwork. Tanya sighed, and emulated him. _As much as I hate sounding like a spoiled teenager… no one understands me._ She frowned, stood up suddenly, and went to get her coat. "I'm going out, Tracy. If anyone asks, tell them it's wedding business, and they wouldn't want to be on the next episode of _Bridezilla 2000_, ok?"

"Crystal clear, Ms. Tanya." Spade saluted.

Tanya sighed. _It's a start._

-Thenue and Aegis. 9/03. 3:36 pm.

"... _You're_ planning a pre-wedding reception? _You?_" Morage Thenue furrowed his brow, and shook his head in migraine. "The absurdity of the concept is the _only_ thing preventing me from yelling at you for doing this during work."

"Thanks, dear old boss o' mine!" Chancellor cooed. "And even so, it _is_ my lunch break. I can do whatever I want!" He sighed, leaned back in his cushy chair, gulped down a chocolate covered strawberry, and washed it down with a gulpful of tamarind soda.

"_What do you mean you can't serve Timpano for less than 150 people?_" Cassie yelled into the phone, catapulting Chancellor out of the chair and spraying tamarind everywhere. "_**Why not?**_ Cleaning expenses? Labor charges? What? _Company policy?_ What kind of excuse is that? I can _guarantee_ it will all be gone, don't you worry about that. And besides, this is the _Paraclete-Krasivaya wedding_ we're talking about! Are you honestly going to pass a job like that up? Yes, and Chancellor Moore will be there too…" She paused, listening to the man on the other end speak. "Autographs for the catering staff? No problem, just be sure to bring that Timpano. Yes? Yes. _Yes._ Love to the manager. Bye." She clicked the phone down. "You know, Chance, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you've achieved celebrity status already."

"Well…" Chance smiled. "The media is always in need of a man who looks like a woman, and they're probably tired of following Michael Jackson around, right?"

"Don't _even_ compare yourself to that guy." Cassie warned. "You're _much_ prettier than he could ever _hope_ to be, understood?"

"Um… thank you?" Chance expressed awkwardly.

"Quite frankly, I've never been so disturbed in all my life." Morage grumbled.

A chuckle came from the hallway. "You know… I had a feeling that this was _exactly_ the kind of thing I was going to hear." Tanya walked in, delicately taking a seat in front of Chance's desk. "You don't disappoint, Chancellor."

"You expected any less?" Chance said, leaning back and spreading his hands out. "I'm not in the habit of disappointing _anybody_, dear."

"Still conceited, I see." She smiled.

"I'm not conceited!" Chance yelled in mock offense. "I'm just perfect. _And_ I'm better than everyone else." He shrugged. "What can you do, right? It's my curse." He leaned forward, supporting his chin on his hands. "So how have you been? It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"A month and a half… give or take a day or two" Tanya nodded, "and what a month and a half it's been, right?"

"Yeah, I never expected the next time I'd talk to you you'd be _engaged_, you know?" He raised his eyebrows teasingly.

Tanya frowned. "Chance, you mustn't think…"

"I don't think anything of it, don't worry." Chance waved off. "You know me, fortitude is my middle name."

Tanya cocked her head, confused. "I thought it was Oslo?"

Chance sighed, letting his head slump down. "I think it's time for another session of _Idioms for Idiots_, Tanya dearest."

"Ooh! Goody!" Tanya clapped. "I used to _love_ these!"

"Chance!" Cassie called from her desk. "The guy at the gelatin place says he'll give you half off if you baby-sit his daughter."

Chance nearly fell over in surprise. "What kind of request is that? Does he do that for _everyone_ buying swimming-pool sized vats of Jell-O?"

"Well, apparently, she's a big fan of yours… he says it'd be the best birthday present he could give her."

"Wha…" Chance's mouth hung open for a minute. "I have _fans_ now?"

"Apparently!"

"I'm a _lawyer!_" Chance gaped. "Now, I could see if it was someone from the Karaoke Bar, but…" He shook his head. "Tell him I'll call back."

"He'll call you back" Cassie, said, hanging up the phone. She rose from her desk, and slumped dramatically in a chair next to Tanya. "I never thought being a secretary would be so much _work_…"

"I honestly never pictured you being a secretary, Cassie." Tanya said, hugging the blonde enthusiastically. "You seem much too feministic to take such a stereotypically female working role."

"It's nice to see you again _too_, Tanya" Cassie said, returning the embrace. "And let's be honest here, is there any person on this earth not in this room that could handle being _this guy's_ secretary?"

"That serious kid..." Morage offered. "Only we're short-staffed as it _is_ here."

"Though considering the firm handles mostly criminal cases, having someone around who causes people to die would be pretty good for business, wouldn't it?" Tanya mused. Her eyes widened for a moment, and she gave Chance a serious look. "Don't even _think_ of inviting him to the reception, understood?"

"You're not _superstitious_ now, are you, Tanya?" Chance smiled. He put his legs up on his desk, and closed his eyes, seemingly content. "Besides, don't talk to _me _about it; your future hubby is in charge of the guest list anyway." He frowned at the word 'hubby' and opened one eye. "But, speaking of seriousness, are you sure you're ready for this?"

"Pardon?" Tanya queried, after a pause.

"I think what Moore is implying" Morage rephrased. "Is that the entire thing seems a bit rushed." He shrugged. "I'm actually just as suspicious of the whole thing myself, I'll have you know... most weddings take at _least_ three months to plan, if not a year."

Tanya opened and closed her mouth. "Wh... who are you?"

Morage was silent for a minute. "I'm... Thenue? Like... in the name of the firm?"

Tanya cokced her head to the side. "Have I met you in court before?"

"A few dozen times..." Morage grumbled.

"Huh..."

_"ANYWAY!"_ Chance butted in quickly, sensing Morage's unsensable embarassment. "You still didn't answer our question... doesn't this feel a bit rushed?"

Tanya thought for a minute. "I think so… I mean, I wouldn't have said 'yes' if I didn't feel it was right, would I?" She played with her hair absentmindedly. "Besides... my senior history teacher met and married her husband within a few hours… they just celebrated their 42nd anniversary."

"Yes, but Romeo and Juliet _also_ got married within a day of meeting, if I recall correctly" Chance mused.

"You always know _just_ how to shake a girl's confidence, don't you?" Tanya asked; a little hurt.

"Again, it's my curse." Chance smiled. "But Tanya, in my honest opinion…" He hesitated slightly, but not enough for anyone to notice. "You two will be great together. And, if it means anything at all, you have my blessing."

Tanya gave a short gasp of delight, and then compulsively leapt on Chancellor, hugging him to the point of near asphyxiation. "Chancellor!" She squealed. "For the life of me, I'll never figure out how, but you always come up with… with…"

"Exactly what you need to hear… I know" Chance said, sounding almost defeated. He wrenched himself free, and looked into her eyes. "Go on now; I'd imagine you've got Moore important things to do."

Tanya smiled again, and left, nearly skipping down the halls.

"I wasn't aware Russians could skip" Morage Thenue grumbled, peering down the hallway.

"Oh come now, they are a joyous people _occasionally _aren't they?" Cassie asked. "I mean, ok, we've never seen a picture of Putin smiling, but he doesn't stand for _all_ of them, you know?"

"He bloody well tries to" Morage grumbled again. "Either way, Moore…" he stopped. "Do you by any Chance know what I was going to yell at you for?"

"Well, I'd guess using work time to plan a wedding reception, but you've already said you _weren't_ going to yell at me for that…" Chance mused. "Quite honestly, I don't think I've done anything a model employee wouldn't do, Mr. Thenue."

"That was it then" Morage nodded.

Chance cocked his head. "Pardon?"

"Your work ethic" Morage stated. "You have one now. It's not like you." He frowned (though not noticeably, seeing as his face had that general shape most of the time anyway). "You're doing _twice_ as much work as you normally do, you know?"

"Maybe I'm just getting into the swing of my job?" Chance offered.

"Or maybe it's because he's a _celebrity_ now!" Cassie proclaimed.

"Moore, no, because you're not doing any _better_ work then you usually do, and Cassandra, no, because I've never heard of a celebrity who wasn't even featured in the _local_ paper." He shook his head. "I know exactly why, Moore, and I'd advise you to stop it."

"Meh?" Chance mehed. "I'm not sure what you mean, dear old boss o' mine" he cooed.

"You're burying whatever sorrow or… whatever you're capable of feeling… with your work, and trust me… I know from experience, _it's not healthy._" He sighed. "Take a day off. Go look up an old girlfriend or something. I'm getting sick of seeing you hanging around the office until seven in the evening."

"I do _live_ in the building, Mr. Thenue" Chance defended. "What would it matter if I did my work here or in my apartment?"

"I wouldn't have to see you if you did your work in your apartment" Thenue said matter-of-factly. "Don't make me talk to you again." He left.

The two remaining were silent for a moment. "You know…" Cassie began, "if I didn't know any better, I'd say he was genuinely trying to help you."

"Yeah…" Chance agreed. "If I didn't know any better." He sighed, and then slumped down in his cushy chair, head nearly touching the seat.

"Chance…" Cassie said, crossing over to the attorney. "Chance it's not the end of the world when Morage Thenue starts being _nice_…"

"You _know_ it's not that" Chance reprimanded.

"Yeah, I know…" Cassie said, putting a hand on Chance's shoulder. "But he _is_ right. If you keep dwelling on the fact that she could have been yours, you'll _never_ get on with your life."

"I know… and I'll get there." Chance pouted. "I just… I kind of wish something would happen that would make me get over it _faster_, you know?"

The phone rang, and Cassie sighed, drug her feet over to her desk, and answered it. "Thenue and Aegis law firms, Chancellor Moore's office. Yes. Yes, I'll see. Chancellor?" She asked, holding the phone to her shoulder. "There's some reporter from the _Picayune_ on the phone, says she wants an interview."

"I've decided, as of five seconds ago, that I don't do interviews" Chance grumbled. "Tell her to talk to my agent."

"You don't have an agent, Chance."

"My PA guy then."

"That'd be an agent, Chance."

"My manager?"

"Yeah. Same boat."

"Well _you_ talk to her then."

"That's what I'm doing right now!"

"Well then…" Chance waved his hand repeatedly in the air, frustrated. "Good work, I suppose, Cassandra, you deserve a raise."

Cassie shook her head in pity, and returned to the reporter. "He says he doesn't do interviews, Ms. MacDonald."

Chance stood up from his desk, as if from shock. "Cassie… what did you just say?"

"That you don't do interviews! That's what you wanted me to say, right?"

"No, no, _after_ that!"

"Um…" Cassie racked her brain. "Ms… MacDonald?"

"Ask her for her first name."

Cassis gave Chance a strange look. "O…K…" The question was asked, the answer given. "It's Melissa… why?"

Chance's mouth formed a half-smile. "You know what, Cassie? I've changed my mind on that interview policy."

So begins the newest addition to the Chancellor Moore saga! Worship if you must.

Bonus Features! _Yes!_

I haven't done these in a while, so let's get started with some Name Origins!

Zak Newton: I think I've already said that the name comes from 'Isaac Newton', who supposedly discovered gravity by having an apple fall on his head. However, it was also chosen because 'Spade and Newton' sounds like 'spayed and neutered', and can be used to make a Bob Barker joke. Not only _that_, but Zak's mother's name, Sara, is a reference to the song 'Zak and Sara' by Ben Folds. Pretty suite thinking, huh?


	20. Part Two

1:56 AM. Amaxing Fan Finction Inc. Headquarters.

Skyler: Don't _dis_ my claims, maybe?

Zuko: Used it already.

Sky: The Sky's the limit on disclaimers?

Z: True, but… that doesn't have any potential usage now, does it?

Max: How about, 'My fan fic brings all the boys to the yard?'

Sky: But, like, this stuff isn't ours? Hey! Now _that's_ something. Thanks, Max! (Flinches) MAX? When the hell…

Zuko: We all thought you were dead!

Max: (Checks pulse) Nope, still there. Guess I'm not dead yet.

Nathan: Like… where have you _been?_ It's been almost a year!

Max: I was out…

(Blank stares)

Max: Like, in a coma, out.

(More blank stares)

Max: And by coma… I mean college.

Skyler: Then what's your excuse for the first two months of summer, huh?

Max: Work? I have needs, you know. Needs that require _money_.

Zuko: Are you at least going to finish this story before summer ends?

Max: I'll make no guarantees. But… I'll try. Kind of. Skyler? If you would?

Skyler: (Smiles slowly) With pleasure, sir.

Disclaimer: My fan fic brings all the boys to the yard

But like, this stuff isn't ours.

We could say so, but then we'd get charged

With a lawsuit… and that would kind of suck.

Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Turnabout

Chapter 2

It was a beautiful day in the city of Boston. The sun was bright as a yellow gobstopper, radiating candied goodness on the ground below. Birds were chirping away left and right, and a mild breeze was blowing from the sea, giving the air a slightly salty, but still pleasant feel.

It was a day like this that would make anyone in their right mind want to strut around their college campus with an enormous group of friends, throw a few Frisbees around and attempt to become completely intoxicated.

This was exactly what 'Yonkers' Doth planned to do. He had gathered a posse of ten or so friends (of course including his right-hand man, Aster) and had taken to wandering the campus aimlessly, occasionally complaining loudly how there was nothing to do.

This was all well and good… for a while. However, it soon occurred to Yonkers that you could only complain about a lack of things to do for so long before that, in itself, became boring, and you _really were_ left with nothing to do. One or two of his friends had already sneaked away back to their rooms (because, at the very least, there was the internet to go on) and the rest seemed all too willing to follow suit.

This would not pass with _the _Yonkers Doth. And so he resorted to a pastime that, really, everyone at Boston University liked to do occasionally.

"Hey! Moore! Front and center!"

Chancellor, who even at 19 was _still_ wearing his same outfit, rolled his eyes and face palmed, traipsing over to the crowd as slowly as his legs could carry him. "What do you _want_ Yonkers?" he groaned.

"I _want_ to know when you're coming out of the closet, _buddy._" Yonkers sneered. "You see, we've got a bet going on, and my time period is coming up pretty soon." He smiled maliciously. "Don't _worry_, we won't treat you any _differently_ once you do it."

"Alright, look…" Chancellor said, annoyed. "I know that it's _pretty hysterical_ that I have a woman's face. Ok? That's the joke. Ha ha. I'm willing to play along, really, but not like this."

"What's wrong, are you ashamed or something?" Yonkers taunted.

"I can't be ashamed of something I'm _not_," Chancellor insisted. "And if I _was_ then, no, I wouldn't be ashamed. So back off, alright?"

That last part may have sounded inoffensive. But this was Boston U. And the first rule of Boston U, in Chancellor's time, anyway, was you do _not_ tell Yonkers Doth, six foot eight, 260 pound (all muscle) _Yonkers Doth _to back off.

Yonkers was taken aback. The campus freak, telling_ him_ to go pound sand? Even if it wasn't much, he still had a reputation to uphold, _especially_ in front of his 'posse'.

"I'm going to knock you to kingdom come, Moore," Yonkers said through gritted teeth, hands balled up in fists.

"Now, there's really no need to…" but Chancellor never finished. Because it's hard to talk when someone punches you in the jaw. Yonkers and his posse laughed and, with renewed purpose, strode off to enjoy the beautiful day.

Chancellor, down on the ground clutching his body for the third time that month, sighed. _Can it really only be my second year here? Good Gravy, something's got to give _eventually_, don't you think?_

"Are you ok?" he heard a voice call from above.

"Chance!" Cassie yelled from the passenger seat of the Corvette. "Are you ok?"

"What… oh, yeah!" Chance said snapping from his thoughts and swerving to avoid an oncoming tractor-trailer. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been acting really weird ever since you decided to take this interview." Cassie said, genuine concern in her eyes. "And that, in itself, kind of freaked me out, you know? I mean you say you don't do interviews and all of a sudden you get in the car and start driving towards the _Picayune? Really?_ Are you _that _indecisive? I always knew you were a little airheaded and, admittedly, kind of flaky, but… this is strange even for you, you know?

"Three," Chance commented automatically. "Rants don't really work when you're not angry."

"You're avoiding the question," Cassie pressed.

"You should already know the answer," Chance commented. "Something from the past that I've mentioned before that's suddenly made it's way into my present? For someone who claims to be able to break the fourth wall, you're doing a _very_ poor job of using the Court Record tab in the upper left corner."

"And what's _that_ supposed to reference?" Cassie asked, clueless. "And what do you mean… oh!" Her eyes widened. "This reporter we're going to see… Melissa MacDonald. Is she the same one as?"

"That's my girl," Chance smiled. "My idiotic girl, but, my girl, nonetheless."

"_Funny,"_ Cassie said, not amused. "So tell me, who exactly _is_ Ms. MacDonald?"

Melissa MacDonald was a pretty, but not striking girl that nearly no one hated. She was athletic, but not a star, theatrical, but not a showstopper, and quite intelligent, though usually only held around a B+ average. One could say the most extraordinary thing about her was how she could manage to be better than most people at just about anything, but never truly _master_ a single craft.

She had been with Yonkers and crew during the incident, and had been the quiet, nearly inaudible voice in the back saying: "just leave him alone. That's enough." Now that the rest of the posse was laughing and strolling away, she walked over to Chancellor, kneeling down and grabbing him gently by the shoulder. "Are you ok?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine." Chancellor brushed off, using his jacket sleeve to soak up the blood seeping from his mouth. "I'm more worried about Doth, really. I hope one day, soon, he'll realize there's a world _outside_ of Yonkers, you know?"

Melissa laughed. "Hello Dolly, right? Michael Crawford would be proud."

Chancellor's heart skipped a beat. "You… you actually _got _that?"

"Well… yeah?" Melissa confirmed. "I mean… who _wouldn't_ get a reference like that?"

Chancellor laughed. "I've been saying that for a _year_ now and you're the first person to laugh. Shows you why I'm so popular, right?"

"I guess, but…" Melissa paused for a moment. "If the people around here don't get that even after seeing _Wall-E_ then I can't say much for their intelligence, can I?"

"That was blunt," Chance laughed.

"So was Yonkers' fist, from the looks of it," she said tenderly, taking Chance's face lightly and looking him over. "Oh… come on. We need to get you to the nurse… no, actually…" She thought for a minute. "My room is closer. I've got some bandages there, that's really all you need."

"Wow, thanks," Chance smiled. "But you know, you could at least buy me dinner first."

Melissa looked him in the eyes and smiled. "That really wasn't the right set up for that joke," she scolded.

"Yeah… I wasn't feeling it either, really," Chance said, getting up from the ground and following his new favorite person.

Boston _Picayune._

Desks. Computers. People bustling about. Papers flying everywhere, and managers demanding articles by deadline. Needless to say, the offices of the _Picayune_ didn't strive to break any tired cliché's about news rooms, and the paper's secret slogan: 'Nothing sells better than the same story retold" showed that its employees knew it.

So it came as quite a shock, to all parties involved, that Chancellor's arrival was such a big deal.

"I _love_ your trials!" a female reporter said, springing from her desk. "They're so… exciting! Fresh! Motivating!" She shook Chance's hand vigorously. "I run three miles every time you get a **Not Guilty**! I've lost twenty-five pounds!"

"That's… great…" Chance said, inching away slowly. "I've got an interview scheduled with Ms. MacDonald, you don't happen to know…"

"Of _course_ I know! _Anything_ for you, Chance!" she said, bouncing up and down in a very Streng-type manner. "It's…"

"Third door to your left in _that _hallway!" A man chimed in quickly. "And remember that it was Bob Daniels who told you, Chance!"

"Thunder stealer!" the bouncing girl yelled. The distraction was all the time Chance needed to sneak away… or so he thought. The girl whipped her head around the room as soon as she noticed his absence and Chancellor, inches from the mouth of the hallway and freedom, dove behind a potted plant to keep from being seen.

"Is it working?" he whispered to Cassie who was standing guard.

"Well… she's pouting… now she's yelling at Mr. Daniels and… ah!" She nodded. "Yup, she's going back to work now. Begrudgingly as all hell, but…" she smiled. "You should be fine."

"Good," Chance sighed. "Now let's go and… ack!"

"Stooping behind a potted plant doesn't befit a celebrity, Mr. Moore," the woman who was now kneeling in front of him said. She fiddled with her large black glassed. "Terribly sorry for the fright. Barbara Hornette. Investigative journalist." She stuck out her hand and Chance, warily, shook it.

"Charmed," Chance said with a forced smiled. "I've uh… got an interview to go to, so…"

"Only a moment of your time, please." Hornette assured. "Trust me, you're in good hands." She smiled, taking a pencil from her ear and jabbing it forward like a stinger. "These keen reporting skills have covered 9/11, Michael Jackson's death, the Franco-Hispanic Slaughters, the Borginian Rhapsody, and even the opening of the bridge across the Bering Straight!"

"There _is _no bridge across the Bering Straight," Cassie pointed.

"But who do you think has already procured exclusive rights to the story, eh?" She smiled broadly. "That's right. Me. So as you can see, Mr. Moore, you're working with the best."

"Yeah, but I already promised an interview to…"

"She's in a different section of the paper, and I _guarantee_ she won't be asking the same questions as I will. For instance…" she held up a pad, flipping through its pages rapidly. "Here's one. How are you able to keep the entire Boston legal system at your beck and call?"

"I still don't feel right answering any… wait, what?" Chancellor did a double take. "And just what do you mean by that?"

"Well… I've been going through some case files. Well, all of them, actually. And I've noticed that every judge you've gone before has wanted to hold you in contempt. But hasn't. Also, in the case of Ne Chrome vs. Massachusetts, you were able to procure convicting evidence by _physically assaulting a witness._ Which would land any other lawyer in jail… but not you. Why is this?"

"I… uh… well…" Chance sputtered.

"_Well, Mr. Moore?_" Hornette pressed. "We're _waiting._"

"I'm Kaiser Soze in real life, ok?" It was the first thing Chance could think of.

Hornette stared blankly ahead, not believing the answer she'd just been given. "It's true," Cassie chimed in. "No judge will ever raise a hand to him because if they do, he can have their wives and children beaten, murdered, and burned by the time the trial ends. Hell, the only reason I'm even following around is so that he won't kill my father. He said something bad about Chancellor once…" her voice trailed off. "And now he can't cut the fingernails off of his right hand…"

"So there you have it," Chance concluded with a smile. "I'm an incredibly handsome master of all evil. Now can I go give my _real_ interview now?"

Hornette furrowed her brow, and then jabbed her pencil in the air again. "I'll get this story yet, Moore. Just you wait." And with that, she stomped off.

"That was kind of harsh, don't you think?" Chance said with a tinge of regret on his voice.

"Nah, she was asking for it," Cassie affirmed. "I mean, did you see what she was _wearing?_"

"Yup," Chance nodded. "Terrible. Though yellow and black vertical stripes _do_ have a slimming effect," he noted.

"I somehow _knew_ that would be the first thing I heard you say," came a soft, sweet voice from behind.

Chancellor smiled. _Finally_, he thought. _We get to the good part. Things are starting to look up._

_Finally._ Chancellor thought as he held the icepack over his jaw. _Things are starting to look up._ Although it was a tad difficult to form words, he and Melissa had been locked in conversation for nearly five hours, with no indication of stopping any time soon. He was blown away by the amount of references she could pick up on… hell, she was even throwing some _new_ ones his way, which only made him like her all the Moore.

"Alright… let's try this one…" Melissa said playfully. "Michael Jackson…"

"Died on the same say as Farah Faucet…" Chance chimed in.

"Which is a kitchen appliance that serves water…"

"Which is what you should drink if you're consuming a lot of alcohol…"

"Which is still banned in some small, Midwestern counties…"

"Much like dancing…"

"Whose ban was a major plot point in the movie Footloose…"

"WHICH STARRED KEVIN BACON!" Chance shouted triumphantly (too loud, actually, as a sharp pain surged through his jaw afterwards. "Though, regrettably, that's… actually seven steps."

"Isn't there any way we can trim it down?" Melissa asked, legitimately concerned.

"Not without taking time out of our conversation to surf the internet…" Chance shrugged. "And that, and this is a first actually, is something I don't want to do, you know?"

Melissa blushed, her cheeks turning near the same color as her auburn hair. "Say… Chance?"

"Yes, Melissa?"

"How's your jaw feeling? Can you move it at all?"

_This is one of the most see-through pick-up lines ever but… hell, I don't care._ "I can move it up and down a bit, yeah."

She smiled. "Alright then… close your eyes. I've got a surprise for you."

_So clichéd… yet I actually don't mind. Who'd have thought this day would turn out so well?"_

That was when he felt a large lump enter his mouth. He gagged at first, then melted, opening his eyes quickly. "Lord have mercy… what _was_ that you just fed me?"

"A chocolate covered strawberry… they're my favorite," Melissa smiled. "Did you like it?"

"_Like it?_" Chance almost shouted. "I think I'm in love."

"Well don't go stealing any now," she said mock-sternly. "And don't try wearing any of my flavored chap stick either, you hear?"

"Alright, alri… wait." He looked at Melissa. "Why are you even worried about the chap stick? There's _no way_ it can taste like the real…"

But he was wrong. Because when her lips touched his, it was a near identical sensation. Amazing, glorious, and real.

After five minutes, they broke apart, and Melissa, blushing even redder, asked innocently "well? Did you like it?"

"Like it?" Chance responded, a dumb, dazed smile plastered across his face. "I think I'm in love."

- (Those only here for the story, stop here)

WHOA WHOA WHOA, Chancellor has a _backstory? Really?_ When the hell did you decide to throw that one in there, Max?

Well, to be honest, always. You didn't think I'd plop down a tire-chain wearing, woman-faced, cho-cov-straw worshipping freak attorney in front of you an say 'meh. That's how it is. No explanations.' Did you?

All right, maybe you did. And knowing me, I have to be honest; I don't blame you. But I'm going to tell you right now, Chancellor is the way he is today for a reason. Several reasons, actually. And by the end of case five, all shall be revealed… probably. Am I even doing a case five? That'd be a full-length game…

Anyway, on to the Character Profiles!

In-depth: Melissa MacDonald

I obviously can't give a whole lot away beyond physical description and personality, seeing as, as you've probably guessed, the 'Melissa MacDonald incident' is… kind of important to the plot. But I _will_ answer any and all of your purely shallow and inane questions.

- You didn't really describe her much. What gives?: Melissa is one of those characters whose defined more by personality and actions than looks. But if you _must_ know, her red hair extends just a tad beyond the shoulders, and she's actually quite tall. Say around… 6' 4"? Chance is the one who has to stand on his toes, is what I'm getting at here.

- OMG! A female character! Must… know… measurements… : You're sick, you know that? 30-26-26. (Am I sick for answering? And are these measurements even realistic?)

Favorite song? Please?: CCR's 'Have you ever seen the rain?', actually. _Very_ good taste, if you ask me.

Did Chance and her used to date or something?: Did you… honestly not get that from how the chapter ended? _Yes._ Good Gravy, you're slow.


	21. Part Three

Disclaimer: I, Amaxing, officially withdraw from my responsibilities to finish stories, blaming my undiagnosed and most likely fictional ADD as the true cause.

I also don't own Ace Attorney.

Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Turnabout

Chapter 3

The office was brightly lit, and decorated simplistically with a few small trees and potted flowers dabbed here and there to give it a natural feel. Chancellor and Cassie sat down on two chairs of slightly above average quality, across from a fair, redheaded reporter… also of slightly above average quality.

"Chancellor… it's been a while hasn't it?" Melissa asked, looking down at the floor.

"Yeah… yeah, it's…" Chance also eyed the floor (to be fair, it was very interesting), "it's been what, three… four years?"

"Something like that," Melissa nodded. "I… I actually hadn't expected you to ever come back, you know?"

"Come back?" Cassie whispered, wary enough not to interrupt the quiet atmosphere. "Come back from where?"

"Oh… right, I never told you," Chance said, picking up a little Moore steam, "I never actually finished my law degree at Boston University… I ended up going to Sydney."

"_SYDNEY?_" Cassie's respect for the atmosphere had officially vanished. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, you spent three years in _Sydney, Australia_ and never bothered telling me? _What gives?_ Do you know how to throw a boomerang? Can you teach me? _OH MY GOD, DID YOU GET TO ATTEND STEVE IRWIN'S FUNERAL? _This is the kind of thing you _tell_ people Chance! You just don't leave out entire chunks of your life to people you habitually spend time with! That's absurd! Ridiculous! _I'd give you another synonym but then I'd sound like Alexis!_" Cassie took a deep breath. "So…" she began again, "why did you end up transferring to Sydney?"

"It was as far away as possible…" Melissa said softly, eyes still rooted to the floor.

"Hey…" Chance said comfortingly. "That's not… I mean…" He paused. Since when had he fumbled for what words to say? "It wasn't your fault, ok? I mean… it wasn't _just_ your fault."

"_But it still was, right?_" Melissa's lip trembled. "Chance, I… you have to understand, I never…"

"It's ok," Chancellor asserted. "I forgave Ricky _years_ ago, you know? The only reason I haven't forgiven you yet is because, well, this is the first time I've seen you since… yeah."

"Could someone please fill me on what happened between you two?" Cassie asked, beginning to get annoyed. "And, on a fourth-wall breaking note, _when does the funny stuff start happening?_"

"Oh, right, sorry," Chance apologized, simultaneously racking his brain for a reference to make. "Right… um… jokes… no, that'll offend feminists… no that'll offend animal activists… no, that'll offend the children of Atlanta, Georgia…"

"Hey, Chance…" Melissa offered. "What do you think of when you hear the word 'Monday'?"

Chance was silent for a minute, and a smile slowly creeped across his face. "Oh… I missed you, Melissa." She flushed red, and Chance cleared his throat. "Monday means day of the moon, which is the satellite that orbits our planet, Earth, which is much smaller than Jupiter. Jupiter is entirely made of gas, and so if Jupiterians existed, they'd have to use airships to get around or, as we see in the movie Treasure Planet… solar surfers." Chance smiled. "And that, dear Melissa, is why Monday is the day of wind surfing."

Melissa laughed, looking up at Chancellor and Cassie for the first time. "I'm glad you're back, Chance," she smiled. "Though I'm curious… why _are_ you back? We all thought you were gone for good."

"So did I," Chance admitted with a shrug. "But you know how it is… a national icon dies… your father gets arrested for murder… and good God, have you _seen_ the Cane Toad problem they have over there? I got tired of waking up seeing one hump my sneakers." He shuddered. "_Which happened on a far too regular basis, thank you very much._"

"Too much information, Chance," Cassie groaned, clutching her shoulders tightly. "I mean, c'mon… a little discretion? Please? _Pretty_ please? Pretty please with sugar on top? Pretty please with sugar on top, ice cream in the middle, some French baguettes, and a generous side of chocolate covered strawberries?"

"Sorry," Chance said with a smile. "Now… Melissa… on to business." He cleared his throat. "I believe you have aforementioned chocolate covered strawberries in this very room, yes?"

"What, I…" Melissa was caught off guard. "No, actually, I don't…"

**OBJECTION!**

"I'm afraid that contradicts all the evidence, Ms. MacDonald," Chance said, whipping his hair back and forth knowingly (none of them can whip it back and forth like Chance do). "For you see, I happen to have caught a glimpse of the 'upcoming stories' list on one of the outside boards, and _you're_ covering the story on 'Chancellor Moore's past', yes?" He slammed Melissa's mahogany desk out of pure habit. "But I know for a _fact_, Ms. MacDonald, that you already know _quite a bit_ about that subject, you don't need an interview at all!

_Ergo! You did not call this meeting for purely work-related reasons! You wanted to catch up with how I was doing, and with this motive in mind, you undoubtedly got chocolate-covered strawberries for the occasion!_

Right?" Chance forced his bottom lip to tremble, face resembling that of a moe anime girl. "You… you did, right? Pwease?"

Melissa, head down on the desk and laughing uncontrollably, reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a box of treats.

"Yays!" cried Chance, grabbing a plump strawberry and dropping it into his mouth. "Oh, and by the way Melissa, even if I _hadn't_ forgiven you years ago, this alone would have made me take you back. Also, on a completely unrelated note, I'm planning a pre-wedding reception for my friend and, because of the work that goes into such, haven't had time to secure a date." The puppy-dog face returned. "Go with me? Please? We've got a lot to discuss, you and I."

"Chance…" Melissa said softly. "Did you even have to ask?"

"Well, yeah…" Chance said with a 'well duh' tone. "If I hadn't asked, you wouldn't have known about it, and if you hadn't known about it, then you couldn't have come, and if you didn't come, then that would mean I'd be kind of sad and I don't like being sad and so that's why I asked because if I _hadn't_ asked, then…"

"Oh my god, that's actually how your mind works," Cassie interrupted in a state of unadulterated horror.

"What? No, that's the dumbed down version," Chance said nonchalantly. "The _real_ version would be…"

"_Of course_," Melissa interrupted quickly, fighting back laughter again. "Knowing you though, you haven't decided when and where it's going to be yet so… call me?" She pushed a slip of paper with her number across the table. Chance, beaming broader than he had in a month, took it carefully, placing it in the pocket of his sweater jacket.

"You know I will," he said. "Now, as much as I hate to say this, I have to get back to work or my boss will kill me, so…"

Melissa frowned. "You can't be just a little late?"

"You don't understand," Cassie explained for Chance. "Chancellor's NOT exaggerating. If we don't get back in time, there _will_ be a shotgun involved. Which strikes me as a little extreme because how on_ earth _does Morage expect to be able to replace people at the rate at which they're being 'let go'? Not to mention Chance is a junior partner, so replacing him will be…"

"Point made, Cassie, and you're wasting time," Chance spoke up quickly. "We've got precious little time to make it back to the office as is." He paused for a minute, and then took Melissa's hand, kissing it softly. "I'll see you around, kid."

Had he not turned around immediately afterwards, he would have seen tears of joy welling up in her eyes.

- The Green Corvette. 9/03. 4:30 pm.

"We are not amused," pouted Cassie.

"No kidding?" Chance chuckled. "I thought from the crossed arms, furrowed brow, and turned head that you were happy with me."

'Alright, ONE." Cassie began, the rant bursting out uncontrollably. "You didn't even _introduce me_ in there. For all she knows, I'm just a random blonde-haired girl who followed you in and randomly spoke! Which brings me to my second issue: _I didn't get to say jack!_ The two of you practically glazed over the fact I was even there, and you _still_ didn't answer my question about what happened between you!"

"I'm not going to, Cassie," Chance smiled. "It's in the past, and it should kind of just stay that way. Can I offer you stories about Australia as a cop out?"

"Maybe…" Cassie frowned. "But that still doesn't cover _all _the issues I had. I kind of assumed you'd be taking _me_ to that reception, you know?"

"Cassie…"

"Not like that!" the pigtailed assistant yelled quickly, looking away quickly. "You _know_ not like that."

"Why don't you just go with Liam?" Chance asked.

"_Because he isn't invited_," Cassie stressed. "We don't want any untimely deaths _right before Tanya's wedding_."

"Oh, c'mon," Chance argued. "He doesn't _actually_ have a supernatural death aura around him, you're just being silly."

Cassie cocked one eyebrow. "You _do_ remember what happened at graduation, right?"

"It was a hot day and the air conditioning wasn't working; the fact that the superintendent's heart gave out at the exact moment Liam shook his hand is a _tragic coincidence and nothing Moore_."

"You're _honestly_ not afraid that one of us is next?"

"No, I'm _not._" Chance laughed. "This is all supposedly a 'story' right? They wouldn't kill off anyone important."

"You're just tempting fate on purpose now." Cassie scolded. "Or did you actually forget that Morage will have a shotgun ready back at the office if traffic doesn't let up?"

"Don't be silly," Chance assured her. "We'll only be a few minutes late… at most, he'll bring out the chainsaw."

Author's Note (Don't care? Don't read.)

Alright, fine, I wrote another one. Happy?

No, but in all seriousness, thanks to everyone who's actually been waiting for this. I've started to become as irregular as an elderly person who _doesn't_ eat Activia, so thanks for the support, really.

Also… yes. Things are happening. Someone _is_ going to die in this installment, and believe it or not, a lot of the pieces are falling into place already. You may want to go back and review all the new information you've been exposed to this time around. Next Chapter: The pre-wedding reception! (Eventually…)

Character Profile: 'Yonkers' Doth.

All right, so what gives about suddenly punching Chancellor in the face? Well, to be honest, it wasn't that strange a thing to do back in the day. Granted, Yonkers was the only one brutish enough to _assault_ Chancellor, but giving Moore a hard time was pretty much a pastime at that place.

Incidentally, his best friend's name is Aster Roth… named _years _back when I started this story, before the singer of the same name came out. Though it did work out pretty well, because both Aster and Yonkers _loved_ college.

FAVORITE! SONG! : Aster Roth's "I Love College'. Duh?

Middle name? : Hackl.

Is 'Yonkers' a nickname? : Yes. It's self-imposed, and doesn't relate to his real name at all… that he knows of, anyway. His real name should be easily figured out by his middle name, and various information mentioned in part two of this case.

Anyway, I've got finals this week, so see you not soon, but sooner that usual!


	22. Part Four

Disclaimer:

This is the fic that I started before we met  
Now that you've read it, leaves me with a kind of regret  
No disrespect, but Nintendo might get a bit upset  
Cause what I wrote really isn't what they'd want to permit

Fic that I started before we met  
I hope you like it, else I'll be filled up with regret  
All due respect to the people on Fan Fiction dot net  
Cause what I wrote really isn't what you'd ever expect

Well, **OBJECTION!** And other such phrases  
Haven't read a fic like this in ages  
To skip such a fic would be just outrageous  
Though the plot as of late is just weird and aimless

DoOon't own don't OOOOOWN, DooOOn't OOOOOoooown. NOOOOoooo. NOOOO.

DoOon't own don't OOOOOWN, DooOOn't OOOOOoooown. NOOOOoooo. Don't Own.

Fifty bushels of winner-stuff to the first person that identifies the parodied song!

Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Turnabout

Chapter 4

"I'm invited to a… _what_ now?"

"A 'pre-wedding reception'" Benvolio explained. "According to Chancellor, it is a venue similar to a bachelor party that both men and women are invited to partake in." He shrugged. "It is, so Chancellor says, not as rowdy as a bachelor party, but it should still be fun. Will you come?"

Jaden Friday stared at the yellow-clad attorney with a look that _oozed_ lack of understanding. "_Why?_" He asked, unable to comprehend the invitation. _What is with these people? I MURDERED SOMEONE FOR GOD'S SAKE! LEAVE ME ALONE!_

"Well… our talks have always given me relief, and I feel that, regardless of your previous, murderous actions, you have become well acquainted with a number of people in our social circle… it only seems right to me. Also…" Ben cleared his throat. "I do not know many people in this country yet, so I have been inviting most every one that I have worked with at some point to come."

"Ooh… a hoarding instinct in response to a feeling of alienation and loneliness… interesting…" Friday had actually gotten pretty used to being seen as the go-to under-the-radar psychiatrist for the Boston legal system, and while he didn't understand _why_ people seemed to take his advice so often, he couldn't help but feel flattered (annoyed as hell, yes, but flattered as well). "Am I really allowed to leave prison for this kind of thing? Seems to defeat the purpose, eh, Mr. Manners?"

"You would be kept under much supervision, and probably be handcuffed if not leg-cuffed for the entire time," Ben explained. "And while it is a little odd to allow a prisoner to go to a party, one where practically every member of our legal system will be seems the most logical one to have you at, no?"

"_Logic_," Friday spat, stifling a chuckle. "Mr. Manners, I gave up on logic a _long_ time ago… ever since I met your best man." _Death! Death!_

"I think you will fit right in then," Ben replied honestly with a smile.

-Thenue and Aegis. 9/5. 12:35 pm.

_"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T BOOK SUCH A LARGE NUMBER OF PEOPLE ON SUCH SHORT NOTICE?_" Cassie screamed into her telephone. _"Are there honestly so many bar-mitzvah's, birthday parties, business meetings, and concerts going on in Boston right now that you can't set aside a room for a hundred people to stand around, talk each other up, and find out if its possible to swim in gelatin? _... you say _that's_ the main reason why? That's understandable, I guess, but doesn't the fact that this is the Krasivaya-Paraclete wedding party change anything? No? Did I mention that _Chancellor Moore_ is going to be there too? … Still nothing, even though you desperately wish there was now? Typical. No, thank _you_ for your time. No… _no. _Bye bye. _Bye bye. GOODBYE._" She hung up the phone. "All right, Chance, it's safe to come in now."

"I really shouldn't need permission to enter my own office," Chance laughed, practically diving into his uber-epic-angelically soft chair of gushy plushy cushioning…ness. "And I'll take it that's another venue crossed off the list?"

"Not just another one…" Cassie said, sighing. "The _last_ one. Unless we run into a sudden deus ex machina, we're not _having_ a bachelor party for Ben."

"We're _not_ having a bachelor party for Ben at all… it's a pre-wedding reception," Chancellor emphasized, still convinced there was a difference. "And while it may not be a deus ex machina… there is one last place I know that might work." He whipped out his cell phone, stared at it for a good five minutes. "I'm just not sure if it's a good idea…"

"Why? What could possibly go wrong?"

"So many things I can't even count…"

"Try me."

"Fire raining from the sky, serial killers popping up left and right, wrath of biblical proportions, _dogs and cats living together, MASS HYSTERIA!"_

"Yet we still need a place to hold the party," Cassie insisted.

Chancellor sighed. "So the party is more important than the world, is it? All right, fine then. Hopefully 2012 won't come early." He dialed the phone, gulping nervously as he waited for the person on the other end to pick up.

"Hey… Tanya? Is there any chance we can use your house for Ben's party?"

-Tanya's House. 9/5. 5:15 pm.

"Wh… how…" Cassie stuttered. "What kind of terrible things do I have to do to be able to afford a place like this?"

Tanya's house wasn't a mansion, per se, but it was certainly bigger than the average suburban fare. The house was two stories tall (not including the furnished basement) and composed largely of brick, with a grand, sweeping front lawn that had as its focal point, dividing the walkway up to the door, a miniaturized version of Moscow's statue of Peter the Great (the one with the ships… not the horse. Google it.)

"You… _honestly_ gave all this up just because she had a hard time prosecuting you?" Cassie asked, mouth open in awe and disbelief. "I mean... hell, _I_ even want to marry Tanya now…" (Authors note: So do I. Is that weird?)

"I have a pretty intense problem with relationship drama," Chance admitted. "The moment I start causing someone pain, I can't handle it… you know that. Besides…" he smiled sadly. "We'd decided that… if we ever moved in together, she'd sell this place and move into my apartment."

"Two months and you'd already talked about moving in together?"

"It's been not _even_ two months with Ben, and they're getting _married._" Chance shook his head. "Tanya moves fast… it's a little intimidating at times, actually." He frowned. "A bit disappointed you didn't rant about how dumb it was of Tanya to sell this place and move in with me, by the way. Just thought I'd bring it up."

"No, I thought about it," Cassie assured Chance, ringing the doorbell that they'd (finally!) reached. "But your relationship- while wonderful, mind you- never made any sense to me in the slightest, so I just kind of… accepted it."

Chance nodded slowly. "That's what was so great about it," he said, too soft for Cassie to hear.

Cassie rang the doorbell again impatiently, and soon enough the two were greeted by Tanya (who, incidentally, pulled off the 'just wearing an old t-shirt and shorts while working around the house' look quite well). "Sorry…" she said quickly, apologizing for both her and the state of the inside. "I've just been straightening down, trying to figure out where we'll put everything."

"It's straightening _up_," Cassie said quickly, hugging the prosecutor and heading indoors with her. "But on to more important things. Now, let's see… there's going to be timpano, so we'll need an area large enough to hold a fairly wide table… unless we cut it up before hand which means we'll need a _long_ table, and while we're talking tables…" They walked away quickly, searching the house and picturing just where everything would go.

"I'm here too!" Chance called quietly, to no reply. Smiling, he took a look around the foyer, tempted to slide down the not-insignificant slope of it like he'd used to… though was afraid that this time would, of course, be the one time he ran into the grandfather clock. He laughed to himself, and ran to catch up with the two women.

"That's amazing!" He heard Cassie yell from the backyard (she'd found the pool). "We won't be needing an above ground one then, will we? Though are you sure you're ok with draining it?"

"For a Jell-O pool? Of course!" Tanya laughed. "And while we're on the subject, I have to admit, Chance," she said, finally acknowledging his presence, "you _do_ know me."

"I do my best, always, the second time around… sometimes," Chance said with a comical bow. "Just out of curiosity, how _are_ you planning on draining this thing?"

"Well, you see…" Tanya said with a smile. "I've wanted a pool full of gelatin Moore than Paris wanted Helen of Troy… so I had the pool equipped with an easy draining mechanism." She pointed towards the bottom of the deep end, where a watertight hatch was. "All I'll have to do is go down to the basement, pull a switch, and the water will go directly into a reservoir! Then, once we clean all the Jell-O out, we can switch a pump on and fill it back up."

"That's brilliant!" Cassie cheered. "Convoluted, yes, but brilliant. I'll need to change the order slightly, but they won't mind… it's for Chancellor, after all."

"Oh… yes," Tanya said, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "You've actually become a bit of a celebrity, haven't you Chance? I read a story about you in the paper today."

"Oh, was that published already?" Chance asked with interest. "I was meaning to read that… surprised Melissa got it out so fast."

"I'm surprised you told a random reporter so much about your personal life…" Tanya began. "Especially seeing as, when we were dating, I never heard anything about it."

"… Again, haven't read it so… what did she write about?"

"You don't know?" Tanya asked with stern disbelief. "Weren't you there when she was asking questions, or were you conveniently mind jacked?"

"Ugh… you _played_ that game?" Chance responded.

"_It wasn't as bad as Yahtzee said it was," _Tanya insisted. "And I believe I asked you a question… what gives?"

"Don't take it personally, Tanya," Cassie said absentmindedly, having pulled a tape measure from who-knows-where and begun measuring the pool. "The reporter was an old girlfriend of his, she didn't _have_ to ask any questions."

"Oh… an old girlfriend, of course," Tanya said, caught off guard. "Because… you've had those. And I _totally_ knew about it."

"You never told me about any of _your_ old boyfriends," Chance defended quickly.

"_I never had any_… um… well," Tanya cleared her throat. "It's just that I spent most of my time in Russia studying and, when I came over here, no one really ever…" She gasped falsely. "Ah! I just remembered, I left the oven on! I've got to go clean the bathroom, then!" She smiled an apology. "Take your time, and then you can see yourselves out if you'd like. _Da sveedanya!_" She hurried off quickly.

"Da sveedanya…" Chancellor called back with perfect pronunciation. Cassie, always one to pick up on such obvious signals, stopped measuring the pool and hugged Chance. "You guys are going to be ok, right?" She asked with an overly girlish frown. " I'd hate to have to pick sides, you know."

"It'll be all right," Chance assured her with a chuckle. "Mommy and daddy may fight from time to time, but we'll always love you, ok?"

"Ok," Cassie said, hugging Chance once more and going back to measuring. Chance shivered. _I expected at least a daylong rant about that, and instead she answers 'ok?' What is going _on_ in my life right now?"_

_ You _honestly_ don't know, Chancy?_ His reflection in the pool scolded him. _Come on… you're supposed to be observant. It's the one thing I can actually use to brag about you to my friends!_

"You brag constantly and you _know _it," Chance replied, taking care not to let Cassie hear.

_Fair enough, Chancy,_ his face smiled. _But in all honesty, didn't you see this coming? You built a close circle of friends in a relatively small time, with each and every member of that circle used to the fact that Tanya and you were an 'item'. _His reflection shook his head at him. _Now that's its over, there's bound to be quite a bit of shock involved, don't you think, Chancy?_

"Maybe…" Chance admitted begrudgingly. "But I thought Tanya and I were fine, you know? Where is the sudden _you-never-told-me-anything-when-we-were-dating-ness_ coming from?" Chancellor's vocabulary was, as you could probably tell, incredibly well versed.

_How would I know, Chancy?_

"Because you're supposed to know everything I don't know!" Chance said, a bit too loudly.

"You all right over there, Chance?" Cassie asked, now miraculously in possession of a depth gauge. (Don't ask. I mean it. Don't ask.)

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," he called, feeling a little ridiculous. He shot his face a dirty look, to which his reflection only smiled. To an onlooker (of which, thank God, there were none) the transition looked incredibly strange.

_Incidentally, Chancy, while I'm nagging… you should really get some help. It hasn't been this bad in a while, you know?_

"_No_," Chance stressed. "While, admittedly, you may be right, we made an agreement, remember?"

"You made an agreement… with your face?" The university psychiatrist asked, writing rapidly in his notebook. "Fascinating… you realize such behavior is currently unknown to psychoanalytic science? With your permission, I believe this merits further research insofar as to find what cerebral alteration produced such a reflex."

"I'm not going to let you use me as a guinea pig just because you don't know what's wrong with me, Dr. Arkham." A young Chancellor said, staring up at the office ceiling from the ever-so-clichéd red sofa.

Dr. Arkham winced at the bluntness of the statement, but did not back down. "Paranoid delusions of people using you… a feeling of alienation, not to mention the _voice_… yes, that's about right." He cleared his throat, tapping his notebook on the knee. "I have to say, Chancellor, you're the best functioning schizophrenic I've ever met."

"We are _not_ schizophrenic!" Chance insisted.

"We?"

"Right! _We._ Like the _Victorian We? _Which actually just means I?"

"Chancellor, can we get past such paltry verbal exercises? You _just_ revealed to me that you made a covenant with _your face_." Dr. Arkham sighed, trying to show pity for Chance. "Do you simply expect me to glaze that over with the simple retort of 'we are not schizophrenic?' I mean… seriously now."

Chancellor sighed, looking into the mirror in the doctor's office. _He's got a point_, _Chancy_, his face scolded. _Maybe you should tell the nice man what we talked about? He's only trying to help you."_

Chancellor groaned. "Fine…" He rolled his eyes. "So… my face and I… we sort of made a deal not to talk about my relationship with Melissa."

"You agreed not to talk to yourself about your girlfriend?"

"_With my face_," Chancellor corrected.

"With your face… of course," Dr. Arkham nodded, scribbling in his note pad furiously. "And… why is that, exactly?"

"She doesn't like her."

"Your girlfriend doesn't like your face?"

"_NO_," Chancellor griped, unable to see what was so confusing. "My face doesn't like Melissa… and we've agreed that since I'm not going to break up with her _regardless_ of what she thinks, that we're just not going to talk about it. Puts less stress on our relationship, you know?"

"When you say your relationship… you mean the one between you and your face?"  
"_YES_," Chance groaned. "You're not playing tic-tac-toe on that thing, are you? Try and pay attention, please."

"I've been paying resolute attention to every single utterance… _including_ the grunting conversations you've been having with yourself while your mouth is closed." He snapped his pad closed. "In my professional opinion, Chancellor, your girlfriend was right to suggest you see me. It would appear that you have a case of schizophrenia that threatens to develop into full-fledged dissociative identity disorder if left unchecked. You haven't been experiencing any significant memory losses recently, have you? Sudden skips forward in time?"

"Nope…" Chance assured, shaking his head. "_Especially_ since I stopped going to frat parties."

"Good… then we've still got a Chance to wrestle this thing in before it gets out of hand." The doctor rose from his seat, motioning for Chancellor to do the same. "I believe we should begin meeting on a weekly, if not more frequent, basis. What time should I meet you, then?"

"6:00 at Fondue Stew's," Chancellor told Melissa over the phone. Chancellor had finally settled on a date for the party: the upcoming Friday, just two days before the actual wedding. "The pre-wedding reception doesn't start until 8:00, but I figured we'd want to get a pretty sizeable dinner down first, you know?"

"That sounds just like you," Melissa giggled. "Oh, and I probably won't be there until 6:20, seeing as you're going to be late anyway, ok?"

"Works for me," Chance said. "Though now I might be even later than usual… you shouldn't have said anything."

"My mistake," Melissa said in all seriousness. "I won't get there until 6:40 then."

"_Melissa_," Chance whined.

She laughed. "Later, Chancellor."

"Bye," Chance laughed, snapping the phone shut. (Chancellor had, somehow, found the one flip phone still sold on the market, and made a show of clapping it shut whenever he was done talking. He figured that this, more than any sentence starting with 'young whippersnappers' signified his unwillingness to change.)

He looked in his bathroom mirror, checking, for the first time in years, his reflection to see if he looked ok. _This isn't a good idea _his face told him.

"Like I care what you think," he said aloud.

_You _do_ remember what happened last time, right? What I _warned_ you about?_

Chance gulped. "You wouldn't… you wouldn't do that again, would you?"

His face looked at him sternly. _It's always a possibility, isn't it, Chancy?_ She said menacingly. Chance looked away quickly, smacking himself across the cheek for good measure.

_I'm in control_, he said to himself. Of course, he couldn't be sure which voice had said it.

-Tanya's House. 9/9. 8:20 pm.

"It's _about time_ you two showed up!" Cassie said, answering the door to let Chancellor and Melissa in. "Didn't you meet like _three hours ago?_ I don't see how it could take you that long to eat, unless Stew spilled it all over the floor and you decided to lick it up instead of asking for Moore!"

"You _know_ we didn't even get to the restaurant until 7:10," Chance said. "What's eating you? You can't be mad at me _yet_, right?" He chuckled.

"It's not you…" Cassie admitted. "It's just… all our well-laid plans have gone to waste."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Chance asked, nervous.

-Main Room.

"I wanted to thank you for seriously…" _SNAP!_ "_Mother!_... for inviting me, guys," Liam Sirius said as he sliced roast beef for the party's guests.

"What was that?" Chance asked.

"It's called being passive aggressive, Chance," Liam drolled. "I thought you of all people would seriously… ah damn it," _SNAP!_ "_WHY?... _would understand it."

"No, I got the passive aggressiveness… very well done, by the way," Chance complimented. "I was more wondering why you're randomly snapping that rubber band against your wrist."

"Oh… that," Liam shrugged, pointing out the hors d'oeuvres tray to another guest. "It's for speech therapy. _Apparently _my speech pattern was getting obnoxious, so my parents had me go. Now every time I use the word 'seriously' incorrectly or unnecessarily, I've got to do that. Negative reinforcement and such." He shook his head. "But _seriously_, there's a whole lot worse I could be doing, I seriously don't" _SNAP!_ "SEE!… why it had to come to this."

"It _was_ getting kind of annoying," Cassie offered. "And besides, from the sound of it, you're already improving!"

"_Thanks_," Liam said, still clearly not amused. "And before you say anything, Cassandra, I _did_ try to get off work today. I _got_ the hint."

"It wasn't about _you_, Liam," Cassie said quickly and almost apologetically. "You know I like having you around… it's just…"

"Everywhere I go, someone dies," Liam finished. "I understand."

"Good…" Cassie said softly. "Because I wouldn't want you to think…"  
"_Well since you're here_," Chance interrupted quickly, sensing the conversation could only get Moore awkward from there, "you can at least try and knock off someone we _want_ to die. Unless Cassie's been hiding something from me, it hasn't happened yet."

Liam's face brightened a little. "You know, I'd seriously never" _SNAP! _"THOUGHT!... about trying to _channel_ my powers before… this could actually be pretty interesting."

"That's the spirit!" Cassie encouraged. "Now who should we try it out on?"

"We shouldn't try it out on anyone, should we?" Melissa said quietly. " I mean… isn't wishing for someone to die just horrible?"

Chance smiled. "We're just having fun, Melissa," he comforted her. "We don't _actually_ think someone's going to…"

"Chancellor! Chancellor Moore, is that you?"

Melissa and Chance's eyes widened, and darted towards the voice. "_HIM_," they both said at once.

Author's note

Surprise! I did write another chapter, I wasn't lying!

Also, 300 additional pecks of winner-stuff to the person who correctly guesses who Melissa and Chance both want to die.

Character In-depth: Dr. Arkham

Keen readers will recognize Dr. Arkham's lines as being from the very first chapter of this story! He's the doctor who analyzed Chance. Since Chancellor's back-story is going to be pretty important to this case, it's important you know that.

Questions:

Where's the name come from? : Arkham, Massachusetts is a fictional town where H.P. Lovecraft set a lot of his stories. Since these stories involve people learning truths they ought not learn and then going insane, it fits for a psychiatrist. Later on, the Batman series used Arkham as the name for their asylum, so either connection works, really.

Does he have a first name? : Sure. It's Iago. Like the parrot.

Middle name? : Would you believe Gottfried?

**No.** : Well fine. But that's what it is.

Is he the person that Chance and Melissa want dead? : Well that'd be spoiling it now, wouldn't it? But no. (Ah crap, I just… oh well.)

Until next time, stay Amaxing, Moore-ons!

(Get it? Because you're all reading… I'll work on it.)


End file.
